


City Nights, City Secrets

by vaguelyaperson



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Ballet Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Childhood Friends, Dom Victor Nikiforov, Explicit Consent, Light BDSM, M/M, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Master/Slave, Monogamous Viktuuri, Political Thriller, Some Graphic Violence, Sub Katsuki Yuuri, Yuuri is a 90s Kid, fictional city
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-04-14 04:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 79,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14128029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguelyaperson/pseuds/vaguelyaperson
Summary: In the city-wide Nikiforov criminal empire, the king flaunts his wealth and power with his collection of specialized consorts. These beauties are to be the king’s guards, bedmates, entertainers, slaves, all in one, all for the king’s pleasure.All Yuuri ever wanted to be.





	1. angels, behind closed doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Note: Even though this story builds up from childhood friendship (for plot reasons, mostly), THERE ARE NO SEXUAL RELATIONS BETWEEN MINORS. When it gets to the meat of the story (haha, innuendo so intended), Yuuri will be 20 and Viktor will be 24. 
> 
> Furthermore, I know this story is tagged as a mafia AU, but it's technically not mafia. The Nikiforov criminal empire in this fic is its own entity. It functions independently from more international criminal organizations, and by its own codes and traditions.

They had always been the most beautiful women Yuuri had ever seen.

What especially distinguished them was that beautiful people were not foreign to Yuuri. After all, his family’s spa and salon, Yu-Topia, catered to fashionable, bejeweled clients. It was hardly the only salon in the wealthy corner of their California city, but Yu-Topia was still renowned for its competitive service and stunning décor. Rich, beautiful people liked to come to this spa, to spend their day and their money.

These women were just three of many that frequented Yu-Topia. But no one else could part a crowd the way these three women did. Seas of people would step back, breathless, faces a shamed pink as they couldn’t bring themselves to look these women in the eye.

Even more so, each woman had her own appeal.

There was the one who had flawless winged eyeliner, just as smooth as her artfully red-trimmed suits. Her raven hair was always tucked up, her deep brown eyes and heart shaped face usually musing over some thought or another. When she spoke, she was as eloquent as the many books that she carried.

The other woman was pixie-like, in both height and the midsummer-fae petite features of her face. She liked to give a playful wink, while swishing a rebelliously short black skirt. Her auburn hair changed style and often cut with each week, her mouthy lips painted in whatever color she fancied that day.

And the woman who usually led the trio was easily the tallest, even when she wasn’t wearing heels. She had sharp, observant eyes, set in a dignified face, with a smile that could taunt any man to his knees. Her stature was toned with glowing muscles, her hair bleached and cascading down her back. But nothing compared to the flash of her unforgettable teal eyes.

Undoubtedly, individually, these women brought the room to a standstill. The three of them together was a force unstoppable.

These women glided into every space as if they owned it, and they stood as if anyone who touched them without their permission would soon regret ever being born. It was that untouchable, imperial look in their eyes that came from a confidence few women, few _people_ even, could ever obtain.

And ever since Yuuri had first seen these seraphs, back when he was a small, impressionable child, he dreamed of not having their beauty to own, but to move with their grace and self-assurance.

-/-/- 

As a child, Yuuri didn’t know much about his parents’ life in Japan before they moved to the city of El Valle, in California, America. He knew that they grew up in a small Kyushu town, and when business there started going under, they were drawn to the potential of El Valle’s growing influence and wealth. These stories didn’t have much of an impact on younger Yuuri. He couldn’t quite appreciate just how much had changed about El Valle in the past few decades, since all he knew were the modern city streets that raised him.

Nevertheless, what was once a little Pacific town, sprawled along the mountain fed Río Alto, found itself booming in trade back in the late fifties. By the time the newly married Hiroko and Toshiya Katsuki arrived in the eighties, El Valle was easily competing with San Francisco to its north, and with Los Angeles to its south.

Between the upper-class clients of Yu-Topia, Yuuri had heard snippets here and there about the city being built by no more than a few ambitious families. He didn’t quite understand why the women having their hair dried would whisper behind their magazines about these things, as if this American Dream story was somehow bad. Maybe they were just jealous that they weren’t a descendent of one of these successful families.

Either way, Yuuri never stuck around long enough to get more of the story.

Even though the Katsuki family lived on the third floor of the building in which they had built their business, consequently mixing Yu-Topia with so much of their home lives, Yuuri’s parents never forced him or Mari into the salon business. Mari took to it on her own. Yuuri did not. While Mari grew up learning cosmetology and customer service, Yuuri took to dancing. He had no interest in making other people beautiful. He was only determined to find a grace in himself of which he could be proud.

With the help of his family’s extra money – and supposedly a touch of his own talent – Yuuri was noticed by a world-famous dancer. When Yuuri was seven, he was taken on by Minako Okukawa. Her faith in his potential kickstarted his life as he knew it.

Soon he was spending less afternoons at home, and more racing straight from his inner city elementary school to Minako’s studio. Some days he didn’t see his family until Minako was able to drive him home later in the evening, as closing up shop at Yu-Topia took much of his parents’ time. His mother tried to put aside time so that she could pick Yuuri up from ballet as often as possible, but Yuuri genuinely didn’t mind when she couldn’t.

Yuuri wasn’t the most sociable kid, even with his family. He had a difficult time fitting in with his classmates, and an equally difficult time fitting in with all the kids in his ballet course. Most of them were from families wealthier than Yuuri’s, and they weren’t above reminding him of this fact. The boys were alright… when they weren’t trying to form a hierarchy. The girls were another beast entirely; even the boys deferred to them. It was incredible how petty and ruthless a gaggle of girls their age could get.

It wasn’t long before a pecking order was established. The girls took over the second floor of the building, preferring to hang out in a snug corner that was the upstairs landing; it allowed them view of the door, so that they could rush out when their parents or nannies arrived to pick them up. Yuuri took to waiting after class in the entranceway lounge. The box television in the lounge was never turned from NPR or ice sports in the winter, and the many gossip magazines held no interest for Yuuri. In that downtime between getting his homework done, and waiting for someone to take him home, Yuuri would walk outside to the neighboring bakery.

His indulgences, bought with his allowance of single dollar bills, never did any favors for his weight. But the people at the bakery knew him by name and were very nice to him. They would help him pick out something sweet and affordable, and he’d take it back to the tall blue chairs of Minako’s studio lounge, his legs dangling over the seat. Yuuri then liked to pass that time munching on his treat, while dreaming of what he’d look like in the future.

He wouldn’t be some stout, chubby, soft-faced nobody, Yuuri imagined. He’d be taller, maybe even taller than his father. When Yuuri grew up, he nodded to himself with determination, people would make way for _him_. He’d have a movie-star handsome face, and the confident stride to match.

Minako usually interrupted these fantasies. He would be pulled from the favored, age-old mental image of his older self by her exasperation over him holding unneeded sugar. She’d always threaten to shut down that bakery, wondering aloud who even had the nerve to set up such a decadent business next to a ballet studio, for crying out loud!

At first, Yuuri thought that she was serious, and was very worried for the nice people next door. But she never made good on her threats, and so she kept finding Yuuri with a cookie or a doughnut.

“Come on,” she’d say after relenting her rant. Minako would always check the analog clock hanging over the door, as it ticked later into the night. “You can’t be here past eight. Let’s get you home.”

Yuuri, for the longest time, had no idea why he couldn’t be at the studio past 8pm. He used to wonder what was so forbidden about a simple ballet studio at night. Logically, there was probably some boring adult reason that the studio was closed off to everyone. Like for cleaning. But Yuuri liked to imagine other reasons while he waited in the lounge.

He still never openly questioned it. For all intents and purposes, Yuuri was content with the routine in his life. He kept up with his routine for days, weeks, months, all the way into the early spring of when he was eight years old.

Until, one day, Minako was invited to present at some foreign ballet event, and she had to put her ballet classes on pause for four or five days.

In those few days that felt like forever, little eight year old Yuuri had no idea what to do with himself. He didn’t know enough about his family’s business to help out, and it wasn’t like he was old enough to work around the salon anyways. He never had a wide assortment of toys, since he had long been entertained by his dancing. The most he had was his Gameboy and a child’s piano keyboard that he had received for his birthday a few years prior. But there were only so many times his fingers could trace the keys of pre-recorded, simple songs before he was flopping back onto his bed, bored again. Worse yet, since he didn’t really talk to the kids at school or practice, he didn’t have any friends to hang out with.

Mari wasn’t close enough in age to Yuuri for him to follow around. Besides, at fifteen, she was old enough to start being paid for her work around the salon. That meant she took on actual hours after school. It was quite dull to shadow someone who did nothing but sweep up hair clippings and fetch towels for the showers and sauna. Yuuri had no idea how she enjoyed the work, but Mari seemed content enough to work her way up nonetheless.

After two afternoons at home, Yuuri was running up the walls, bored out of his mind. He spent much of his time holed up in his tiny room, going over stretches and practicing his balance _en passé_. It was the closest he got to normalcy, but there was only so much space his room afforded him to practice. Soon, trying to keep up practice just made him claustrophobic.

Finally, on the third day, Yuuri slipped back downstairs. He took his Gameboy with him, and settled himself in a corner chair of the warm yellow reception area. The regulars, whose patronage to the Katsuki business went back for years, recognized and greeted Yuuri eagerly. These were people who knew everything he was getting into in life, thanks to his proud, oversharing mother, but who had not seen him face to face in a long time. Yuuri ended up receiving a lot of praise about his recent growth spurt, and the same dozen questions about how he was enjoying his dance lessons.

Yuuri shifted awkwardly though most of these exchanges though. It was weird for these people to know more about him than he knew about them, all the while wondering if these customers actually cared about him, or if they were just interacting with him out of that weird adults-must-give-kids-attention obligation. Either way, he didn’t like being in the spotlight like that. But he was a chubby cheeked child, so no matter how much he stammered or stared at the floor, people ‘ooed’ and ‘awed’ at how cute he was and _just kept talking_.

As time went on, Yuuri did his best to tuck himself further into a corner of the room, until he was curled up behind a potted plant. This potted plant was in the corner closest to the front entrance, so no adult thought to look down and find him, especially when they were so focused on waltzing up to the front desk.

It was a perfect spot. The waiting area existed more so for appearances and bored spouses, since no costumer at this establishment would be caught dead walking in without an appointment. Adults didn’t spend long in front of the reception desk until they were escorted back to their stylist of choice. Yuuri giggled a little, feeling like a ninja for hiding in plain sight.

He had no intention in the world to come out of his perfect hiding spot. No intention at all… until those women walked into the salon.

Yuuri heard the precise steps of their heels before he saw them. Unabashed with excitement, he got up on his knees and peeked a bit over the plant.

They were just as stunning as ever. The tallest woman, with the bleach blonde hair, was wearing an ankle length black dress. It made Yuuri think that she had just come from the funeral of an important man, whom she had just killed for the money. But no one would ever discover that it was her!

It was fun for Yuuri to imagine these things. Confident he wouldn’t be caught, he continued to stare.

Besides their eye-catching clothes, each woman was wearing their standard necklaces. Yuuri had only started to notice those necklaces after seeing the woman half a dozen times. It was hard to notice details like that when he was caught up with their overall beauty.

The necklaces were something Mari described as chokers. Yuuri had seen his older sister wear such a type of necklace a time or two, but none were as expensive looking as the ones these women wore seemingly every time Yuuri saw them. The blonde woman wore an intricate, blue green lace choker, decorated with pearls. The color matched the woman’s eyes perfectly. The shorter woman, with the auburn hair, wore a thinner, black base choker. But it was studded with opals, each circled with tiny diamonds. It sparkled every time she tilted up her head and the jewels caught the light. Finally, the raven-haired woman staring at a PDA, clacking at it with a stylus, wore an undecorated gold choker. It was likely all pure gold, judging by the way the solid trails of gold twirled and twisted randomly to form an ethereal design.

For a moment, Yuuri was too busy studying these necklaces that he didn’t notice that there was someone else with these women.

That was strange.

Yuuri had never seen anyone else in this entourage before, but there among these women was an older child with waist length, moon silver hair. They had some height on Yuuri, and were most likely a preteen, just starting to outgrow the vestiges of a soft, baby face. With how lanky the child’s body was, and how long their eyelashes were, Yuuri had no idea if the newcomer was a boy or a girl.

That uncertainty didn’t change just how beautiful this child was. Their skin was pale, unmarred, and their nails were painted a pretty, flashy blue. Their outfit was a pair of white overalls, with bright red checkered sneakers, of all things.

Yuuri couldn’t help but to gawk. He had to rub at his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t just imagining things. That child still stood there.

The women were all turned away from Yuuri, towards the person helping them at the reception desk. The child was closest to where Yuuri hid, allowing Yuuri an unblocked view. He stared, not checking himself.

“What are you doing spying on us from that corner?”

The voice snapped Yuuri out of his innocent reverie. He looked up and over to see the blonde woman staring right at him. One of her perfectly shaped, thin eyebrows was quirked up, waiting for Yuuri to answer her.

How did she see him? Every other adult overlooked that potted plant.

When the eyes of the other two women, and that child, turned on Yuuri, he could feel heat blooming through his face. The short woman even giggled behind her hand.

Yuuri very much wanted to slip back down behind the plant, put his Gamboy in front of his face, and pretend he did not exist. But the blonde woman’s stern eyes ordered different of him.

His cheeks were likely bright red as he stumbled out from behind the plant, his Gameboy left there. Empty handed now, Yuuri pulled at the hem of his Pokémon shirt.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry, I d-didn’t mean to be r-rude,” he stammered out, desperately hoping that these women weren’t going to try to get him in trouble with his parents. “I j-just…” he looked to the child, and in a moment of panicked impulse, blurted out, “I just thought you looked like an angel!”

The child’s eyes widened. Behind them, the women also blinked in surprise. But the grin never fell from the shorter woman’s lips, and she giggled again, but this time she let her hand fall to show her bright amusement. She wore lilac lipstick.

“Aww, how sweet of you!” She said to Yuuri, her hand going to rest on her heart. “It’s alright, love, don’t be scared.”

The woman with the PDA nodded, as if to assent to that statement, and then looked back down at what she was doing. On the other hand, the blonde woman stepped up and placed a hand on the shoulder of the silver haired child.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself?” She asked the child, with a small push. Her tone wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order. Even still, the child nodded as if he had the will to agree with her idea, putting up a tentative, if not sufficiently polite, smile.

The child held out a hand, the blue nail polish glittering in the light, for Yuuri to shake.

“Hello, my name’s Viktor. What’s yours?”

“Uh…” Yuuri glanced between the child – no, Viktor – and the two women who were still staring at him. It took him another second to remember that Viktor was saying hello. Yuuri’s hand flew from his shirt to Viktor’s outstretched palm. The two clasped hands and shook. Yuuri was certain his version of a shake had just been a violent jerk of Viktor’s hand.

“Yuuri. My name’s Yuuri.” Yuuri’s hands returned to the hem of his shirt.

“That’s a Japanese name too? Cool! What does it mean? In your language?”

“Er, it means ‘courage.’” Yuuri answered in a small voice, not missing the irony of him still fidgeting with his shirt.

To Yuuri’s mortification, Viktor’s little smile then turned cat-like. The older boy tilted his head. “Then why are you so shy?”

Yuuri felt like falling through the floor. It probably did nothing to help his case, but he hid his flaming red face behind his hands. It only made things worse when the shorter woman with the lilac lipstick laughed out loud again. The blonde woman made no move to admonish Viktor.

Rich people.

When Yuuri’s mother came into the waiting area, Yuuri didn’t know if he wanted to rush back to the potted plant, or hide behind her legs.

“Ah, Vicchan!” She greeted. “It’s good to see you again!”

Yuuri peeked out from between his fingers to see his mother and Viktor smiling at each other.

“I see you’ve met my son, Yuuri,” she said, gesturing to the still very red eight year old.

“Yes, I have.” Viktor replied, all sweet and innocent. “Is he always this weird?”

“Oh!” Her mouth popped open in surprise for a moment, but then she chuckled. “Yuuri just doesn’t have very many friends his age, right, dear?”

Not. _Helping_.

Yuuri let out a pathetic noise as a response.

“Huh,” Viktor turned back to Yuuri. “Well, I don’t either. Do you want to be friends?”

Yuuri stilled in absolute shock, his mouth dropping open a little. Someone as beautiful as Viktor? Who was in the company of the women Yuuri had been admiring for years? Not have any friends? It had to be impossible! Viktor was the type of person the kids in Yuuri’s ballet class would fight over, to have the privilege of calling a friend.

Viktor not having many, if any, friends was practically a crime. In fact, Yuuri was downright offended that other kid should pass up the chance. Any kid would be so lucky to have Viktor’s companionship, Yuuri decided, completely glancing over how rude Viktor had just been.

All embarrassment was forgotten as Yuuri bobbed his head in determined agreement.

“Yes!”

The false propriety vanished from Viktor’s face, as he stared openly at Yuuri for a moment, his eyes searching and unguarded. Finding something genuine in Yuuri’s declaration, Viktor smiled again. But this time, it wasn’t demeaning. The smile spread across Viktor’s face, the leftover childhood softness lighting up his eyes and making his cheeks look like a chipmunk’s. Viktor’s grin was heart-shaped, all teeth, and it was honestly the most ridiculous smile Yuuri had ever seen.

Yuuri loved it.

“Great!” Viktor cheered. “Do you want to get your nails done with me?”

That brought Yuuri to pause. For growing upstairs to a salon, he had never taken advantage of the services – besides his dad providing all his haircuts. Was he even allowed to get his nails done? He looked to his mom for permission.

“I don’t mind.” She said, happily. “You two go pick out your colors.”

She didn’t need to point out where the nail polish bottles were kept on display, since both boys knew well enough. While Yuuri and Viktor skipped off to pick their colors, Yuuri’s mother helped the three beautiful women to their preferred stylists. The woman with the lilac lipstick waved to Viktor and Yuuri as she passed, offering a “have fun, boys!”

“Okay!” Viktor waved back, and then immediately turned to study the nail polish options.

“Hey,” Yuuri spoke up, watching the women continue to glance over at them from their vanity chairs. “Who are those ladies you came with?”

“Oh, those are my moms.” Viktor answered without any hesitation or fanfare. He never looked away from the nail polish, finally selecting one that was a light gold with generous sparkles. “What do you think of this one?”

“Your moms? All three of them?” Yuuri’s eyes widened in awe. Viktor had three moms? He just had to be the coolest kid ever! “Oh, and yeah, that’s a nice color.” Yuuri added, as an afterthought to the polish – which was receiving none of his attention.

“Right?” Viktor grinned his chipmunk, heart grin, now playing with how the light reflected off the gold sparkles. “I’ve gotten it before. I think it’s my favorite.” He then paused. “And yeah, they’re all my moms. Well, Mama Lyuba gave birth to me, but they all raised me.”

Yuuri didn’t miss how casually Viktor mentioned his mom giving birth. Most kids that Yuuri knew would giggle over such a topic, or at least sport pink cheeks out of habit. Viktor just kept getting cooler and cooler in Yuuri’s opinion.

“Lyuba?” Yuuri asked, testing the pronunciation.

“She’s the tallest one,” Viktor answered proudly, this time looking up from the nail polish. “Papa thinks I’m gonna be tall like her one day too.”

“I think you will.” Yuuri said. “I hope I’ll be tall too.”

Viktor scrunched his nose in amusement. “But you’re so short. How old are you? Five?”

Yuuri glowered. “Eight and a half.” That was a lie. Yuuri had only turned eight three months ago. “What are you? Nine?”

When Viktor frowned in an almost pout, Yuuri inwardly cheered at his victory. That’ll show Viktor that Yuuri wasn’t just some pushover. Viktor replied, trying to stand taller, “I’m _twelve_.”

Yuuri snickered.

Continuing to frown, Viktor glanced over the rest of the nail polish, clearly looking for a distraction. “Well, have you picked a color yet?”

Despite his pride over besting Viktor, Yuuri was sufficiently distracted. He had never had his nails painted before, much less tried to tackle the display case that was now looming over him. He had no idea where to start!

Viktor must have noticed Yuuri’s growing panic, or decided to forget their earlier taunts, because he grabbed Yuuri’s hand and gave a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I know all about this stuff. I can help. See, you’re going to want to pick a color that goes well with your skin tone.”

When Yuuri tilted his head in confusion – he never took the time to learn anything about cosmetology – Viktor sighed and started pulling bottles down. Even he had to stand on his tippy toes to reach the higher shelves, which made Yuuri feel a little tiny bit better about his own shortness. It turned out that even though Viktor was twelve, he had already developed brand loyalty, and would shake his head at some of the options that Yuuri pointed out. Making comments like…

“No, no, this brand never dries the right color.”

Or…

“I mean, it’s pretty, yeah, but do you know how many coats this brand takes?”

Still not entirely sure what Viktor was talking about, Yuuri just let the older boy pull down a dozen or so colors. They held each bottle up to Yuuri’s pointer finger, squinting at and ‘hmm’ing over each candidate, before they settled on a light, snowy color. The polish appeared plain white, but had a silvery blue shadow.

“It’s good to start out with softer colors first,” Viktor said, matter of fact, as they made their way over to Yuuri’s mother’s manicure station. “I was only allowed French Manicures when I was your age. Mama Mei says that makeup shouldn’t steal the show. It should only help _you_ steal the show.”

The two sat down, and Yuuri’s mom started with Viktor’s nails. Viktor continued, at Yuuri’s insistence, to chatter about his moms. “Of course, Mama Nina says that makeup is meant to make a statement! And I’ve asked Mama Lyuba what she thinks about makeup so many times, but she says I should figure out my own style.”

Yuuri learned that Mama Mei was the bookish one with raven hair, and that Mama Nina was the one who really liked bright lipstick colors. He learned that Viktor had a little brother, who was also named Yuri, but the other Yuri was three and still stuck in the nursery. Yuuri, in turn, pointed out Mari when she passed through the room. It was cool to discover that they both had siblings so far in age from themselves.

The two compared schools, which was mostly just Viktor asking a lot of questions about how bad it was to go to an inner city public school. It was kind of funny, since Yuuri did live in a nice neighborhood, so his school wasn’t that bad. Still, Viktor made it sound like a foreign planet when compared to the wealthy private school that he attended.

“Don’t they stuff kids’ heads down toilets in public schools?” Viktor had asked, his voice low and skin a little green. Yuuri couldn’t help but to giggle at that.

When Viktor’s nails were done, the two switched places, with Viktor seated next to the stand. He kept talking, which Yuuri was fine with. It was nice to not be expected to carry the conversation. Viktor didn’t seem to need more from Yuuri than Yuuri felt like saying. It soon became easy to forget that their lives were worlds apart. Sitting there, they were just Viktor and Yuuri.

Plus, Yuuri discovered that getting his nails done wasn’t bad. His mother’s hands were gentle with the filing, and receiving the standard hand massage felt really nice. The only frustrating part was sitting still with his hands under the purple light, waiting for the polish to dry. But even that wasn’t so bad when he had to Viktor to entertain him.

When the polish finally dried, both he and Viktor ‘ooed’ over their nails. They decided that the color was, in fact, an excellent choice.

It was fun. It was really fun. Yuuri had no idea that he could have this much fun with someone outside of his family or outside dancing. He definitely wanted to hang out with Viktor again.

-/-/-

The moment Minako resumed ballet class, Yuuri announced to her his intention to skip some classes, in order to hang out with his new friend. His mother and Viktor’s mothers had already agreed, without complaint, to let Yuuri know which days they were going to make an appointment at Yu-Topia.

Yuuri was swept off his feet – figuratively and in reality – by Minako’s responding enthusiasm. Pulling Yuuri into a chokehold embrace, she squealed about how proud she was of Yuuri for finally making a friend. She gave no qualms about Yuuri skipping practice every so often, if it was to hang out with said friend.

Minako did put Yuuri down when he started struggling for air.

That was how Yuuri’s new routine started. For the most part, not much changed. Most days he went to school, then went to the studio, and then got his treat from the bakery as he waited for his ride home. But on the days that Mama Lyuba or Mama Mei booked an appointment, he would leave school straight for home. Once there, he would wait by his new favorite potted plant, Gameboy in hand, until Viktor arrived.

While Viktor received whatever he wanted for his long hair or well-kept nails, the two would either talk, or Yuuri would show Viktor whatever game he had been playing, or any sort of thing that came to their minds.

One afternoon, Yuuri mentioned his ballet classes, causing Viktor to absolutely light up over learning that Yuuri danced. He begged Yuuri to dance right then and there. At first, Yuuri wanted to refuse, but it was Viktor, and Yuuri also desperately wanted to impress Viktor. So he fetched his slippers. It was embarrassing to have a bunch of adults staring at Yuuri as he did basic pirouettes _en dehor_ and _en dedan_ in the middle of the salon floor. Yuuri had to block everyone else out and just focus on the sound of Viktor’s happy clapping.

“Amazing!” Viktor complimented, when Yuuri returned a bit pink in the face to the vanity where Viktor sat, getting his hair trimmed. “You should show Mama Lyuba too. She was a principal dancer with the Mariinsky Ballet company, before she met Papa.”

“Really!? Does she still dance?” Yuuri scooted a little bit closer. Viktor’s mom had danced with the _Imperial Russian Ballet company_? Yuuri half expected for Viktor to say something next about how Mama Mei had won a Nobel prize in literature, or something equally amazing.

“Oh, yes, Papa loves her dancing. I wanted to learn ballet too, but Papa says I should focus on other things.” Viktor huffed at that.

Yuuri was about to ask ‘what other things,’ but Viktor went right back to talking and never gave Yuuri the chance to interject.

“So how long have you been dancing?” Viktor had asked, leaving Yuuri to start answering questions, instead of asking them. Normally he hated answering these basic questions, but since Viktor seemed to know more than enough about ballet, the conversation wasn’t annoying.

Soon, Yuuri’s ballet lessons became a re-occurring topic when the two boys hung out. When, a month later, Yuuri earned a major part in an upcoming ballet recital, Viktor was the first non-family member to know. Yuuri was to be the Prince in Sleeping Beauty! Granted, the recital included kids of varying ages, so it wasn’t going to be a difficult performance. Still, Yuuri was determined to give it his best.

He worked extra hard, every practice. Minako still insisted that he hang out with Viktor, but that didn’t stop Yuuri from practicing. When Viktor was done with whatever makeover he came to the salon for, the two would go upstairs to the Katsuki living room, so that Yuuri could practice parts of the program. Viktor was both an encouraging and difficult to please audience member. He would stand there, finger tapping his pursed lips, as he scrutinized Yuuri’s dancing.

Yuuri, though, loved having someone who could offer helpful, educated comments. His family, while supportive, couldn’t even name the basic ballet positions. And the kids in Yuuri’s class continued to think of him as a chubby, donut-loving, anti-social weirdo.

-/-/-

When the day of the performance arrived, Yuuri asked his mother to record it. He wanted to have a tape to show Viktor and Mama Lyuba, the second he had the chance.

Keeping in mind both all of Viktor’s help, and the fact that a principal ballerina might see a video of his dancing, Yuuri preformed his very best. Without his glasses, he couldn’t make out where his family sat in the audience, but knowing that they were there was very encouraging.

But then, afterwards, Yuuri came out to the auditorium lobby to discover not only his family, but Viktor and his moms waiting for him.

“You came?!” Yuuri exclaimed, as Viktor handed him a congratulatory bouquet of white lilies. Mama Nina was right behind Viktor to offer Yuuri a hug and a motherly peck on the head. Off to the side, Mama Mei held a bowl-cut blond three year old, dead asleep against her shoulder. The boy had bright red cheeks around his eyes, and a pouting mouth. Yuuri realized it was likely little Yuri, and the child had fussed himself to sleep during the performance.

“Of course!” Viktor grinned, stealing Yuuri’s attention once again. “I love watching you dance. You were the best one up there.”

The sincere compliment, coming from the boy who had no filter, caught Yuuri so off guard that he started to tear up a bit. He tried to hide his reddening cheeks behind the flowers.

“Really?”

“Well, Mama Lyuba did say that your balance was shaky, and you have a habit of staring off into the distance instead of at the people you’re dancing with or the audience… but yup! Still better than all those other kids treating ballet like some _hobby_.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri huffed. “Most of us are under twelve.”

“That’s no excuse.” Viktor put his hands on his hips. “Mama Lyuba has been dancing since she was _four_.”

At the reminder of Viktor’s world-famous mother, Yuuri looked up shyly at Mama Lyuba. He shuffled his foot a little.

She looked down at Yuuri, her arms crossed. “Vitya is right. Dancing was my first love. He says that you have great passion for it as well.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuri nodded eagerly.

“Well, you show great potential. I expect that you to keep practicing. It is very possible that one day you will be a handsome, talented danseur.”

Yuuri’s eyes slowly widened, and then he had to throw his bright red face into the flowers. He mumbled out a ‘thank you’ into the petals.

The woman, who Yuuri had longed to be just like for so many years, had just told him that he could one day be handsome and talented. It was almost too much for Yuuri to handle. He felt like crying. Or melting to the floor. Probably both.

Maybe one day he could be just as cool as Viktor’s moms. The dream felt so closer to reach.

When Yuuri felt like he could show his face without looking a mess – a useless effort, his face still burned, and his chin wobbled – he bowed to Mama Lyuba.

“I will. I promise to keep practicing. Thank you!”

-/-/-

So, Yuuri kept on dancing, and kept on hanging out with Viktor. Months passed into summer, just like that. Even without school, Yuuri rarely found himself bored as he had always been during summer vacation. So much of his time was spent dancing or thinking up of things to talk about with Viktor. Such contemplations took some effort, since it felt like Yuuri now knew everything about Viktor.

He knew that Viktor’s favorite colors depended on the season – hot pink and gold in the summer, blues in the winter. He knew that Viktor loved spicy food, but he found most American hot sauces disgusting. The boy would rather hunt down a variety of spices, than resort to tainting his food with Frank’s Red Hot. Yuuri even knew that Viktor’s favorite pajamas were his silk blue puppy jamies, with matching slippers.

Sure, Yuuri hadn’t had the chance to visit Viktor’s house yet, and yeah, maybe Yuuri didn’t know where Viktor lived. But Yuuri didn’t need to know about what was probably just another villa in the high-end neighborhoods north of the city. He was content enough learning everything about his friend as a person.

Viktor probably knew everything about Yuuri in return. The two were completely open and honest with each other, it felt like. Yuuri was certain that their friendship would last forever.

Everything was going great, until…

“Boarding school?!” Yuuri repeated in disbelief. “You’re going away?”

Viktor nodded, not even looking at Yuuri. “Papa went to this school, and he expects me to go as well.”

It was at this horrible moment that Yuuri realized he knew next to nothing about Viktor’s dad. He didn’t know the dad’s name, job, or much of anything besides all the crazy expectations he had of Viktor. This faceless father figure wanted Viktor to be tall, a perfect student, an esteemed gentleman…

And now Viktor was expected to go to some boarding school that Yuuri had never known about, since the school was outside San Francisco and thus a four hour drive away.

Yuuri didn’t know everything about Viktor after all.

“When will you be leaving?”

“The start of this school year.”

“We’ll… we’ll get to see each other over the summer, right?” Yuuri sniffled, just begging for his friend to look at him and tell him everything would be alright. Viktor continued to stare off in the distance.

“Papa will probably expect me to start learning more about the family business.”

His family’s business? Yuuri had no clue what that even was. Wait! Yuuri didn’t even know Viktor’s last name!

When Yuuri sniffled again, tears pricking up in his eyes, Viktor finally looked back at Yuuri.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry.” Viktor admonished, his expression unreadable. “I’ll try to come see you. Why are you always crying?”

That stung. Mostly because it was true.

“D-do you not want to be my f-friend anymore?” Yuuri asked, trying not to sob. He couldn’t be weak. Not right now. But, but… Viktor had been keeping secrets from Yuuri. They weren’t as close of friends as Yuuri had thought.

“What?” Viktor reached out and took hold of Yuuri’s hands, squeezing them. “Of course, I still want to be your friend! What are you so worried about? We can exchange numbers… talk on the phone… write letters even.”

Yuuri tried to nod, tried to see the logic in Viktor’s point. It wasn’t like all contact would be cut off between them. He was still so scared. Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth to keep his chin from wobbling. If he cried in front of Viktor, then that would only scare off Viktor faster.

Yuuri could see that now. He understood. He was one tear away from tearing apart the first true friendship he ever made on his own.

Because Viktor was _leaving_. Everything Viktor was saying about staying in touch was likely only to appease Yuuri, and Yuuri would never see Viktor again.

Sure, he and Viktor would keep in touch at first, but once Viktor started making other friends, once Viktor started _dating_ , then a grown, beautiful teenager would have no reason to stay friends with a pre-pubescent embarrassment, far from Viktor’s wealthy social sphere.

Despite Yuuri’s best efforts, he could feel the hot tears spilling out and washing down his puffy cheeks. He sniffled desperately to keep from turning into a snotty mess.

“Oh, oh no, Yuuri... I told you not to cry.” Viktor’s voice shook. It confused Yuuri, squinting through the moisture in his eyes to see that Viktor’s hands had started to fidget. What? This was so unlike Viktor. He was usually so confident, so poised. What was he…

Without warning, Viktor put his hands to Yuuri’s face. When Yuuri didn’t immediately shake off Viktor’s hold, Viktor leaned in and placed a light kiss on Yuuri’s forehead.

Yuuri froze. But Viktor didn’t notice Yuuri’s reaction, and so the overwhelmed preteen started babbling about how ‘everything was going to be okay, please don’t cry, you’re gonna make _me_ cry.’

Sure enough, when Yuuri glanced up to check, Viktor’s eyes were swimming with tears.

Oh. Oh, oh. Viktor wasn’t scolding Yuuri for being weak. Viktor was trying not to be weak in front of Yuuri. This boy who was expected to take on a business. Who wasn’t allowed to dance. Who was being sent away for school. The way the older boy held Yuuri and tried to reassure him was just so helpless that it made Yuuri want to comfort Viktor.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri breathed out, “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

Viktor shook his head, still holding Yuuri’s face. “It’s not. I won’t be able to see you, and you’re the first real friend I’ve ever had.”

And then Viktor added, in a whisper so inaudible that Yuuri barely heard it, “I’m so scared of losing you.”

That confession broke right through Yuuri’s panic. He grabbed Viktor’s face in turn, and looked right into his friend’s beautiful, tear-stricken teal eyes. “Then promise me you won’t forget me. If we promise not to forget each other, then we’ll always stay friends, right? Promise me that we’ll always be friends!”

“I promise!” Viktor declared without a second’s hesitation.

The two fell into a hug then, looking a mess as they cried on each other’s shoulders.

-/-/-

For years, Viktor kept up his promise.

It was difficult. The two had only known each other for half a year when their paths completely diverged. The first thing that Yuuri had to adjust to was just not knowing everything about his friend. There were times, when they talked over the phone, that Yuuri worried Viktor was hiding things. He wanted so badly to ask Viktor more about his father or the family business, but was scared that he would end up chasing Viktor off that way.

Even phone calls were hard to coordinate. While Viktor had his own cell phone, Yuuri did not. He was not to receive one until he turned thirteen. Which meant that Yuuri had to share the sole personal landline that belonged to his family. All other phones in the building were part of Yu-Topia. Viktor didn’t know when Yuuri had use of the family phone, and it took weeks before Yuuri learned Viktor’s class schedule. A month into the schoolyear, once Yuuri had gotten a hang of Viktor’s schedule, Viktor got bogged down with homework.

Most of the time, the two could only talk two or three times a month.

Realistically, that wasn’t all that different from when Yuuri could only see Viktor when Viktor’s moms came to the salon. But Yuuri wasn’t competing for Viktor’s attention then.

Viktor also wrote letters. His handwriting was beautiful – what else would Yuuri expect? – except that Viktor liked to write in cursive, and Yuuri had no idea how to read cursive. When they had the time, either Mari or Minako would read the letter for Yuuri. Then, Yuuri would spend hours writing and re-writing a letter until he was absolutely satisfied with how it looked.

Eventually, this process became tedious, so Viktor and Yuuri switched to email.

Neither of them had personal computers, so Viktor could only write during library hours, using a school computer. Mari was gracious enough to let Yuuri use her computer. But she also got picky about how long he could be on it, or what he was allowed to click on and open. It was daunting, writing emails with Mari staring down his back. Older sisters were so weird and secretive.

But at least, from mail, Yuuri now had Viktor’s last name. Nikiforov. The name was unfamiliar to Yuuri, and he didn’t think that he knew of any local shops under that name. He decided to ask Minako after class one day, when all the other kids had gone off to get their stuff.

“Nikiforov? Did I hear that right?” She paused in the middle of replacing a CD that the class had been practicing to back in the case.

Yuuri nodded.

“Why are you asking after the Nikiforovs?” The CD remained forgotten in her hands as she squinted down at Yuuri.

“Well, that’s my friend’s Viktor’s family. He says his dad owns a business…” Yuuri shrugged, feeling a little anxious with the way Minako was giving him that _serious adult look_ , which either meant Yuuri was in trouble, or that he could get in trouble.

“Yuuri, the Nikiforovs are the wealthiest family in this city… probably in the entire state. They own the shipyards and have investments in just about half the businesses in town. You’re sure that’s Viktor’s last name?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Yuuri answered, and then spelled out the name as given in Viktor’s mail address. Minako’s eyes got wider with each letter.

“You’re friends with Roman Nikiforov’s son?” Minako realized slowly, her voice edging on a squeak. When Yuuri gave a noncommittal nod, she let out a low whistle. “Wow. Talk about having friends in high places.”

Yuuri was just mostly focused on the fact that he finally had a name to Viktor’s still faceless papa. Roman. A suitable name for someone who expected the world out of his son.

It didn’t seem to fully occur yet to Yuuri, how significant it was that Viktor came from such a wealthy family. To Yuuri, Viktor was still Viktor. Or at least, that’s how Yuuri hoped to keep things.

-/-/-

The first couple years, while Viktor was in his school’s junior high, passed normally enough. It wasn’t easy, but Yuuri could handle it. Every time he received an email, or got to hear Viktor’s voice over the phone, Yuuri was reassured that everything was fine. Knowing about Viktor’s family didn’t change the fact that Yuuri could make Viktor laugh over dumb puns. They were still best friends.

But once Viktor hit ninth grade, his work load got heavier while his social life bloomed.

It was only a matter of time until everyone else recognized Viktor for how amazing he was. Although, Yuuri truly hoped that people didn’t just follow Viktor around for his status. Viktor deserved to be genuinely loved by anyone who met him.

That didn’t stop Yuuri from wanting more of Viktor’s time to himself.

Phone calls got shorter and further apart. Emails just the same.

Suddenly Yuuri’s fears were coming true. Viktor was a beautiful, eligible, _rich_ teenager. He had started to attract the attention of his peers, who Yuuri imagined to be equally beautiful, eligible, and rich. And Yuuri was just… still spending his life in that ballet studio, clinging to the memory of when Mama Lyuba believed in his potential.

Viktor and Yuuri could still consider each other friends. They hadn’t forgotten each other. But by the time Viktor was celebrating his sweet sixteen, the two were missing out so much on each other’s lives. Viktor would mention something funny his boyfriend did, when he had never told Yuuri about that boyfriend in the first place. Yuuri would talk about how happy he was with the grade he received on a project, which took a month to complete, when Viktor never even knew that Yuuri was making a replica of Ancient Mesopotamia out of clay.

When they could finally catch each other, usually once every other month, their conversations got so wrapped up in ‘wait, so how did that happen,’ that the two rarely knew much of what was presently going on in each other’s lives.

It didn’t help that they started developing different age appropriate interests. Viktor wanted to talk about the cute boys in his class. Yuuri wanted to talk about the funny YouTube series he had been watching. There was little overlap, and there were only so many times that they could exhaust their shared interest in ballet.

Getting to know someone was simple enough. Knowing that person and then realizing you had little interest or knowledge of the things that entertained them… that was agonizing.

-/-/-

It was only inevitable that once Yuuri got to high school, he too started to branch out and make other friends. He met another kid, Phichit, who liked the same video games as Yuuri, and who never ran out of conversation topics.

The best part was that Phichit lived a couple blocks down from Minako’s studio. It was actually how they met. Phichit’s family had just moved into the city, but no one would ever guess that someone as unbounded as Phichit Chulanont could be the ‘new kid.’ Within a couple times of seeing Yuuri walk the same direction as himself – Yuuri’s head down or off in the clouds – Phichit saddled on up and introduced himself as Yuuri’s new best friend.

No one could ever replace Viktor, in Yuuri’s life, but Phichit never took second place. The two fell into the routine of walking the way towards Minako’s studio after school. If the studio was closed that day, then Yuuri could just keep on walking and hang out at Phichit’s place for the afternoon.

The Katsuki family hardly minded Yuuri going places other than school or the studio. They were immensely proud of Yuuri for every new friend he made. Besides, they had plenty of help back at the salon. A local girl, Yuuko, started working at Yu-Topia around the time Yuuri started high school. She was sixteen and wanted to be a hairstylist, so she was hired to carry out the same sort of chores Mari had been responsible for at that age. Mari, on the other hand, had already graduated to shadowing Hiroko and Toshiya in the trade.

There was also Takeshi, a bulky kid who hung around Yu-Topia a lot. Yuuri had known the kid throughout elementary school, and wasn’t all that thrilled when Takeshi first started showing up. Takeshi had spent most of his youth picking on Yuuri for his weight. But middle school must have done something to humble Takeshi, because he started relying much more on awkward humor than teasing.

More so, he said that he was interested in applying at Yu-Topia, but he was 15 and never got around to obtaining a permit to work. It didn’t take long before people realized he was just there because he had a big fat crush on Yuuko.

Yuuri couldn’t blame him. Yuuko was super sweet. She always had something nice and encouraging to say to Yuuri. And once she learned that Yuuri was a danseur, she did her best to come to all his performances. When she couldn’t make it, she always asked to see a recording of a performance.

It surprised Yuuri a little, for all he appreciated and admired Yuuko, how he didn’t form any sort of romantic attraction towards her. He was at that age where most boys had already discovered the joys of chasing after skirts.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t tell which boys and girls were attractive. He was still _painfully_ aware of his average appearance compared to others. There just wasn’t… anyone around him who caught his attention like that. Or at least, when Takeshi or Phichit waxed poetic about their crushes, Yuuri was left wondering what it felt like to look at someone and instantly want to date them. It seemed so… weird. Who’d want to date someone they barely knew anyways?

The closest he ever was to being so moved by someone at first glance was Viktor. But eight year old Yuuri didn’t have a single thought about dating Viktor. That was adult stuff. Sure, Viktor was inhumanly and unfairly beautiful, and funny, and knowledgeable, and self-assured, and had the most ridiculous, lovable smile that Yuuri had ever been blessed to see, 

And… Yuuri had to shake his head and smack his face every time he caught himself thinking like that. Even if Yuuri _was_ interested, he never stood a chance. Viktor was four years older than him. And four hours away from him.

It still stung a little, when Yuuri finished a ballet recital and walked out into the lobby. He always, despite himself, half-expected Viktor and his moms to be there with a bouquet of lilies. Of course, Yuuri wouldn’t trade Yuuko or his family’s support for the world, but it didn’t cover up how much he missed Viktor.

And while Yuuri still saw Lyuba, Nina, and Mei – once every blue moon when their paths crossed at Yu-Topia – the women were far too busy to engage Yuuri any longer than a simple, polite conversation. He eventually learned that just accompanying Viktor to that one recital had taken a tedious rearranging of schedules.

The knowledge that these women had moved mountains to let Viktor stay friends with some squishy faced nobody was both uplifting… and a little guilt-inducing. It was as if the universe was trying to tell Yuuri, ‘You and Viktor are worlds apart. Just give up already.’ But he didn’t. And they wouldn’t. Because they were stubborn like that.

Emails and phone calls, no matter how scattered, just kept coming.

-/-/-

Nevertheless, by fourteen, Yuuri had learned to develop his own life outside of his long-distance friendship with Viktor. Yuuri also experienced a greater workload with his own high school career, which kept him occupied well after he came home from the ballet studio or Phichit’s place. Besides, Yuuri didn’t need to wait for someone to drive him home, since he was old enough to start taking public transportation.

Since Yuuri could go straight home from the ballet studio, he had no need to sit on those blue chairs, while munching away at his baked treat for the day. His baby fat started to work away, and without that extra sugar, Yuuri was able to build up more of a toned body. He still thought he looked awkward and disproportioned in the mirror, but at least he wasn’t short and chubby anymore.

Sometimes Yuuri liked to wonder what Viktor looked like nowadays. Ah, how did Yuuri’s mind always circle around back to his friend. Maybe he wasn’t that good at living without Viktor in his life somehow. Still…

Viktor hadn’t mentioned anything about cutting his hair, so Yuuri really hoped that it was still long. Did Viktor still have that chipmunk, heart shaped smile? Or had he outgrown that? Yuuri really hoped Viktor hadn’t. Even though Viktor was eighteen now. Oh. Eighteen. On one January afternoon, while Yuuri was playing a rather aggressive round of Mario Kart with Phichit, it settled in.

Yuuri’s childhood friend was now a man.

Phichit won that round, having no idea why Yuuri suddenly locked up and had gone slack-jawed.

It turned out to be a bit of a mistake to explain himself to Phichit. Because Phichit just happened to be in a honeymoon phase of a crush. And a little also because Yuuri had a hard time explaining himself without blushing. So, no matter how much Yuuri insisted that Viktor was a friend – an _adult_ friend who would _never_ date a minor, are you crazy, Phichit? Shut up! – Phichit up and decided that clearly Viktor was Yuuri’s boyfriend. Or future-husband. It really depended on Phichit’s mood.

Yuuri protested this point again and again.

 

It still got to him. Once upon a time, he was a stocky legged child, sitting in a big blue chair and imagining himself as a handsome adult. Old habits die hard, really. Now, he sat on the blue patterned public bus seats, and imagined not only himself, but what he imagined Viktor to look like. Yuuri bet that Viktor made a handsome man. There was no way Viktor could be a product of the Amazonian beauty that was Mama Lyuba and not grow up to be a stunner himself. From their few calls and emails, Yuuri could gather that Viktor still had a pretty boy on his arm anywhere he went. That popularity was no brainer.

But… if Yuuri was one of those older, rich private school students… would Viktor want Yuuri on his arm? Would Viktor ever notice Yuuri like that? Could Yuuri ever be that pretty enough?

One afternoon, while packing up his gear to leave Minako’s studio, Yuuri was so caught up in imagining Viktor’s present appearance that he forgot his cellphone in the locker room. He was on the city bus, already half way home, when he remembered.

That was his new phone! He couldn’t just return home without it! What if his parents decided he was too irresponsible to have a phone, and took it away? Yuuri got off the bus right away.

He didn’t quite think it through until he watched the bus drive away, down a street that Yuuri barely frequented. Sure, he knew where he was but… it was that in-between place, that throughway, where Yuuri had no reason to be unless he was on the way to someplace else. He was five blocks from home, five blocks from the studio. His school, now closed, a couple blocks over.

The sharp wind of an unusually cold city evening cut through Yuuri’s coat. It was a dry cold, as southern Californian air could be. That kind of dry wind that cracked skin the moment it found an exposed hand. It was only ten after six, but the streetlights had already taken up the responsibility of lighting the dusty road. This area was primarily taken up by 24-hour parking garages and to-be-rented office spaces.

Not the place to be, in the dark, without a cell phone. Yuuri wrapped his arms tighter around himself for more reasons than just the cold.

Standing at the bus stop he had gotten off at random, Yuuri waited for the next bus to come. He waited for so long, watching as the last tendrils of orange disappeared from the sky, before he realized that the bus he had just got off was the last bus of the night. Or at least, there wasn’t going to be another pick up for a long time.

Yuuri could either walk the rest of the way home, without a cellphone, shivering, and risk the shock of his parents. Or, he could walk back to the studio, call a cab, and show up late but not potentially sick.

Yuuri settled on his plan to call the cab.

Fortunately for him, he had seen this route so many times out the car window growing up, that retracing the way back to Minako’s studio was second nature.

Trying to huddle himself from the cold, skittering past every dark alley, wasn’t second nature. The walk all the way back felt like forever. But finally, finally, he stood in front of those chipping red painted doors.

(Only belatedly did he realize that the doors should have been locked, for closed hours.)

Walking into the unlit, lifeless lobby, Yuuri checked the big analog clock over the door. It was eight twenty.

He remembered Minako’s warning, to never stay at the studio past eight. But it wasn’t like Yuuri had any intention of staying for long. He was just here to grab his cell phone and leave. He made his way to the narrow stairs by the lobby – the ones the younger girls liked to wait on after class – to go up to where the studios and cramped locker spaces were.

There was a crash.

Yuuri flinched and flattened himself to the wall of the stairwell. He strained his ears and heard shouts from the second floor. There didn’t seem to be any words to make out. Just a litany of aggressive noises: thumping, loud pops, further crashes…

Against all better judgment, Yuuri made it to the landing, to see light pouring out from under the door of the largest studio. The door stood between him and the locker rooms – set all the way on the other side of the building from the stairwell.

The old, narrow hallway leading up to the locker rooms just seemed to lengthen. The darkness, only interrupted by that daunting line of light, suffocated the passageway. The decades old wooden floor just sang its threat to creak and alert whoever was in that studio to Yuuri’s presence.

Yuuri gulped. His heart pounded at his ribcage.

He wouldn’t stay long, he told himself. He had to prove that he was responsible to his parents.

He had to get that phone.

Yuuri tiptoed out into the hallway from the landing. He knew these floorboards like the back of his hand, knew which ones to avoid, which ones wouldn’t give him away. He stayed low, so to be less noticeable. But the light from the studio… the light just grabbed his curiosity.

One peek. One teensy peek wouldn’t hurt anyone. After years of absently wondering why Yuuri wasn’t allowed to stay at the studio past eight, right then and there, he really wanted an answer.

Was this where a fight club was held? Oh, no, maybe criminals liked to squat here. Or maybe it was just a group of trespassing drunkards. But then again… whatever it was… it had to be the reason behind the studio’s strange curfew.

With the speed of a sloth, Yuuri cracked the door open, to look inside.

What he saw stole his breath.

It was the three women!

Viktor’s moms!

They were sparring. Elegant, ferocious, deadly sparring.

There was so much to take in, Yuuri’s eyes widened, as he scanned over the room.

On one side, Mama Mei was facing off with a man at least a foot taller than her, and wearing all dark blue and what appeared to be a bullet proof vest. The man was coming at her, aiming two guns. Both pistols had funny tube-like things at the end of the barrels. At first, Yuuri thought, those couldn’t be real guns.

Until Mama Mei disarmed the man in a maneuver so quick that Yuuri would have missed it if he had blinked, and then she turned around, and shot at two thick wooden targets set up in the corner closest to her. Bullets slammed into both bullseyes. The pistols gave off little more than sudden, muffled snaps. Mei’s arms barely twitched at the recoil.

The man in blue who had just been disarmed didn’t give Mei a moment’s pause before he was at her back, fighting for one of the guns. The two faced away from Yuuri, so he didn’t see what her initial jerk reaction was, just that the man was then clutching his abdomen, falling to his knees.

Yuuri’s jaw dropped. He looked to the other side of the room.

Mama Nina was attacking Mama Lyuba with a combat knife. Yuuri nearly shouted out for Mama Lyuba. There was a wild glee dancing in Nina’s eyes, her attacks so clean and fast that Yuuri was certain anyone else would have been shaved to pieces under her offense. The way she held herself, there was little vulnerability with each outstretch of her blade wielding hand.

Yet there was no need to cry out for Mama Lyuba, because she danced out of Nina’s reach, quick and light on her toes. She evaded every jab and swing.

Nina took a step forward, something shifted in Lyuba’s movement, and the taller woman took an opening that Yuuri didn’t even see or recognize. Lyuba ducked out of the next attack and knocked the dagger out of Nina’s hand with a lightning fast jab to Nina’s wrist. Even as the blade was still clattering away, Nina wasted no time with throwing herself into the hand to hand combat.

The two women circled and twirled around each other. Full body attacks were evaded with flips, while the few moments of full contact were visible struggles to take control of the other’s strength. Any kicks were fast and met with an audible ' _thwack_!' as the other defended themselves. Their bodies were like wind. There was no other way to describe their fluid yet powerful movements.

If Yuuri really paid attention, he could see the exertion it took to fight the way these women were fighting. Their brows were painted in shimmers of sweat, their chests heaving in deep breaths, but their expressions betrayed no tire or struggle. Of the three, though, Lyuba fought with the most composure. What else could be expected of an experienced ballerina?

But even so, all three fought as if they were sweeping around a ballroom floor. Not a movement was wasted. Every line and arch made by their bodies and limbs were swift, precise.

These women weren’t just fighters, Yuuri realized. They were _artists_.

The fight was just as deadly as it was a performance.

Yuuri couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene. Never in his life had he wanted something so badly. _This_ was the type of confidence that Yuuri had always yearned to have. The kind of dance that could bring a man to his knees in more ways than one.

Now he understood how these women walked the way they did, how they could look down at the rest of the world. They didn’t just think that they owned everything and everyone. They already did.

In that stolen moment, Yuuri would do _anything_ to learn these moves.

A shadow blocked his view of the women.

Yuuri found himself staring at a coat belt buckle, silver and flicking him in the eye with reflected light.

A tremble ran down Yuuri’s spine as he looked up to see an older woman, with sharp cheekbones, glaring down at him with ice green eyes. Before he could react, she had the hood of his jacket in hand, and was dragging him into the room.

“Lyubov!” The woman barked out, bringing the fight between Lyuba and Nina to a halt. She had a thick Russian accent. “I found a little sneak. What would you like to do with it?”

She threw Yuuri at Lyuba’s feet. He couldn’t dare look her in the eye. In some sort of survival instinct, Yuuri stayed on his knees, face bowed towards the floor. He had no idea what he had just stumbled across, and would not dare to do anything to overstep and bring on the wrath of the woman who fought with the eyes of a glacier.

“Look up at me, boy.” Lyuba ordered. Yuuri obeyed. She narrowed her eyes at him. “So, we catch you spying again. Is this a habit of yours?”

Er, Yuuri fumbled mentally, was that a rhetorical question?

“Answer my question,” Lyuba snapped. “Do you spy out of habit?”

“N-no, ma’am!”

She searched his eyes.

“Wrong place, wrong time, then?”

He nodded.

From behind him, the older woman _tch_ ed. “Whether this was an accident or not, he saw you. We can’t have him go telling all his schoolyard friends about this. If you won’t do away with him then–”

“No.” Lyuba interrupted.

“ _Pardon_?”

“It just so happens that this boy is an important friend to my dear Vitya. If I killed him, Vitya would be heartbroken.” Lyuba crossed her arms and glanced up at the woman. “You wouldn’t suggest that I upset my precious son, would you?”

Wait, _kill_? Yuuri started sweating.

The woman deigned not to answer Lyuba’s question. “You all feel this way?”

What exactly had Yuuri stumbled across? Shit. Was his life hanging on the opinion these women had of him? Yuuri then noticed that Nina had stepped up to stand behind Lyuba, and Mei had joined their ensemble to stand at Yuuri’s left side.

“Absolutely,” Nina answered.

Yuuri spared a glance towards Mei to see her nodding.

There was a long, strained silence, in which the women debated wordlessly. Yuuri’s heart had leaped into his throat. Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit –

“Very well.” The woman finally relented. “Do what you think is appropriate.”

Lyuba nodded. She then turned her attention on Yuuri. He gulped. Of all the years he had known her, he had never seen her eyes so cold. Whether they planned to spare him for Viktor’s sake or not – were they really just about to kill him, what the fuck?? – Yuuri realized that any wrong move on his part would result in very bad, likely painful, consequences.

“Stand up, boy.” Lyuba ordered.

Yuuri obeyed.

“I have questions for you.” The lines of her face so clearly warned Yuuri that he could lose all favorability with the Nikiforov family if he answered wrong. “What were you doing here past eight? Weren’t you told that the studio is off limits at night?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Yuuri stumbled over his words. “I was told. I am very sorry, ma’am. I forgot my phone here. Had to walk back. Didn’t realize how late it was. I’m so sorry.”

Lyuba waved her hand at him. “Enough with the apologies. I asked you a simple question, not for you to beg.”

Yuuri swallowed back another apology. He looked around at the women staring him down. Mei, rather impassively. The sharp cheekboned woman, irritated. Nina was… troublingly entertained by the whole situation, if there was anything to go off her giddy smile.

“So, you forgot your phone here.” Lyuba glanced over Yuuri’s shoulder and barked something in Russian at the man who Mei had been sparring with. He left the room, and after five or so minutes, came back with Yuuri’s cell phone. The man handed it to Lyuba.

She held it up with her thumb and pointer finger, as if it was vindictive evidence from a crime scene. “This is your phone, then?”

Yuuri shook his head up and down.

Still not giving him his phone back, Lyuba continued with the interrogation. “So, this explains why you were in the building after hours. But Lilia caught you spying on us. Without us having heard you approach. You do understand how suspicious that is on your part, correct?”

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Yuuri’s face. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Why were you watching us so secretly?”

“I…” would it be offensive to say, ‘because I was honest to god terrified and in awe?’ Yuuri scrambled through his overwhelmed and still very panicked head for the perfect thing to say to excuse him of his accidental transgression.

His head to mouth synapses were, unfortunately, severely malfunctioning in that moment. Because all he managed to get out, deadly women waiting on the right answer – or else – was a rushed,

“ _I want to learn how to fight like you_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers from Sunrises In Our Night, recognize Nina Plisetsky? Truth be told, Nina existed in this fic before I wrote her into SION. I liked her well enough that she now exists as Yuri's mom in my mind. However, if you liked any of my other OCs in SION, let me know, and I'll consider including a cameo for them in this fic!
> 
>  
> 
> As always, I accept constructive critiques!


	2. into the den

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, wow. What the hell happened?? This story already has more subscriptions and bookmarks than my other (10 chapter long) fic.  
> I was planning on returning to SioN, but then this story got such an outpouring of interest, I was like, shit, I gotta put up the second chapter. So here you go. This is for all ya'll who smashed the kudos button. Much love!
> 
>  
> 
> (Also, I edited some stuff in the first chapter because clearly I don't know how numbers work. Don't mind me.)

Five Years Later

October

“How was your trip?” Yuuri asked Phichit over the sound of scrubbing and occasional song. The two of them were working together to clean the pet store fish tanks. Somewhere an aisle over, they could hear their coworker, Leo, humming to the music that he was blasting over his headphones. Technically, the employees weren’t allowed electronics on their shift, but their boss, 'Ciao Ciao' Celestino, liked to think of himself as a ‘cool manager.’

It worked out for Yuuri, since he never knew when he was going to get an important message. Some of these messages couldn’t wait for whenever he clocked out. Other things Yuuri was just generally impatient to see – like if Viktor had sent him another tourist-y pic over WhatsApp. For the past several months, that had been Yuuri and Viktor’s main form of communication. Almost as soon after Viktor had graduated from the Ivy League of his parents’ choice, he was sent on an extended trip to Europe by his still faceless Papa.

It had been going on eleven years since Yuuri had last seen Viktor in person. Much had changed in Yuuri’s life in that decade.

“Pretty normal,” Phichit shrugged to Yuuri’s question. Yuuri had asked about Phichit’s week in Thailand, as his family traveled there at least twice a year to visit family. “Auntie added another thirteen ‘antique’ oil lamps to her collection since spring, my cousins still have that bet going on, and Ma was stopped by customs _again_ for her favorite recipe.”

Yuuri nodded with a smirk. “Sounds about right. You have some new drawings?”

The drawings in question were landscapes of Bangkok. Phichit was an incredible artist, and he hoped to show off his country to Westerners through his art.

“Obviously,” Phichit grinned. “You wanna come over after work to see?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to answer in the affirmative, but then his cell phone pinged. Throwing off his rubber glove for tank cleaning, Yuuri grabbed his phone to check the message.

“Oh, another text from your hot Russian boyfriend?” Phichit grinned.

Yuuri’s cheeks warmed, as an automatic response to his friend’s teasing. It just so happened that Yuuri had been expecting something about the sunset over the Mediterranean – a picture Viktor had promised Yuuri. And it just had so happened, that thanks to ever improving selfie technology, Yuuri now knew exactly what a current Viktor looked like.

Viktor, unfortunately, had cut his hair. But that didn’t mean Viktor had lost any of his flair or sense of fashion. He was, indeed, hot. And still rich. And currently single.

Which gave Phichit so much more fodder to tease Yuuri with. He waited eagerly for Yuuri to tell him what he had received.  

But the message was another directive. Phichit noticed Yuuri’s face fall before Yuuri could start apologizing.

“Oh, work again tonight?”

“Yeah, Yuuri said as he checked the message.

- _From: Unknown_

_22:50 – 451 Corvid Heights_ -

That was a new address. Yuuri had been half-expecting another practice at the gun range, which wasn’t exactly his favorite. Mama Mei had been hounding him about his inability to handle a rifle.

No one else was allowed to know where Yuuri snuck off to on random nights. To Phichit, Yuuri was being called back home to help with the salon. To Yuuri’s family, he was helping a peer with homework. It had been a believable excuse when Yuuri was in high school, and he could keep using it as a part time student at the community college across the Alto River. At first, it had been guilt-tripping to lie to his friends and family, but after nearly five years of it, Yuuri had gotten used to dropping everything when his trainers called for him.

One of the first things that Yuuri learned was that Lyuba, Nina, and Mei did not practice at Minako’s studio every night. While they generally practiced at least three nights a week, there was no official schedule. The women had locations all over the city that they frequented, so not to develop a pattern. Locations that the Nikiforov family had invested in – philanthropically, of course, in support of the arts and after school programs.

It was around the time that Yuuri learned about the arrangements Roman Nikiforov’s harem had with studios and dojos alike across the city, that he started understanding why Minako Sensei still studied him cautiously whenever Viktor came up in the conversation. It dawned on Yuuri that Minako must know exactly who was renting out her studio at night. (Even if she didn’t know for what purposes.) So, while Lyuba and Mei reassured Yuuri that chosen locations were well compensated, it was no wonder that someone as sharp as Minako would remain wary.

Yuuri still found it crazy what rich people could get away with. Doubly crazy that these women were so rich that they entertained themselves with learning some of the deadliest martial art styles in the world. And then went on to practice a fighting style unique to the Nikiforov family, which was a blend of aforementioned martial arts.  

It was still a wonder that Yuuri had received the impossible privilege of learning from these women. That older lady, who Yuuri now knew as trainer and handler Lilia Baranovskaya, was not exaggerating in the slightest when she initially threatened to ‘do away with’ Yuuri. The Nikiforov family’s unique fighting style had been a closely guarded secret for decades, needed to provide security when law enforcement failed. Which was fair enough. Everyone in El Valle knew that their police force was just about useless, bogged down by corrupt bureaucracy as it was. (It was a wonder that crime rates in El Valle weren’t skyscraper high.)

Of all the things that could have happened to Yuuri for stumbling across the Nikiforov secret, it was just a small sacrifice to be randomly called to rigorous practice sessions. Even if Yuuri didn’t know if or where he’d be going until he got that text.

On protocol, Yuuri memorized the time and address, and then deleted the message.

“I’m really sorry,” Yuuri tried to say, but Phichit was already shaking his head.

“It’s cool man. Having a family business sounds complicated.”

Yuuri offered a shaky smile. “Yeah. Way too complicated. Maybe Leo and Guang Hong would be interested?”

Guang Hong Ji was another one of their coworkers. He just didn’t have a shift that day. Otherwise, Leo would be most likely following his friend around the store instead of jamming out to dog accessories. As it turned out, Yuuri, Phichit, Leo, and Guang Hong had all gone to the same high school. The four started hanging out not long after they started working at the pet store.

Phichit side-eyed the other aisle – where Leo was most likely using dog treat boxes as air guitars. “I don’t think he would hear me if I asked.”

He and Yuuri laughed. Yuuri pocketed his phone and pulled the rubber gloves back on, back to work.

“I still want to see the drawings. Next time when we’re both free, alright?” Yuuri checked.

“Absolutely,” Phichit agreed, getting back to his assigned fish tank as well. “I’m always ready to hang out if you are.”

-/-/-

After four years of learning to find the most obscure hole-in-the-walls, Yuuri was able to track down the new address easily enough. This address was northwest, just off the edge of the business district. A wealthy area, where the forest and hills met the city, and landscaping was everything. Yuuri arrived ten minutes early, to find the door unlocked, like normal. It was another dance studio. Except, from what he could gather of the carpeted antique atmosphere and fliers on the board by the entrance, the place was catered to ballroom dancing.

This was… different.

Yuuri walked through the lobby, which was flanked with white chairs that looked like they were straight from a grandmother’s living room, and into the grand ballroom. The ballroom had high ceilings, polished dark wood floors, and a stage at the far end from the entrance. The mothers were already there waiting for him, standing in the center of the room.

Lilia wasn’t there. Neither were any large men to spar with. In fact, Yuuri didn’t see any targets, training dummies, or weapons. The mothers were wearing plain floor-length dresses, but that wasn’t that unusual. Yuuri had seen them demonstrate their skills in formal attire too many times to count. He himself had been expected to learn how to fight without messing up an outfit too much.

So, the surroundings didn’t add up to Yuuri.

“We will not be sparring today.” Mama Lyuba announced, as a greeting. “Do you have any experience with ballroom dancing?”

“A little, ma’am.” Yuuri answered, his brows furrowed as he studied the room. That was a part of his training; take in the environment. He was still counting on there being some sort of surprise encounter. Ballroom dancing? Really? “Minako Sensei once taught me the Waltz.”

“I see,” Lyuba said. “Well, in the next two months, you will be learning every standard ballroom dance. We expect you to meet our expectations in each by New Year’s.”

“May I ask why?”

“When you go home tonight, you will learn that Roman has sent an invitation for your family to join ours for our annual New Year’s party.” Mei explained. “It will be held at the Nikiforov Estate.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. Neither he nor his family had ever been invited to the Nikiforov residence. The place was still shrouded in mystery. When Yuuri was a kid, he thought that the Nikiforovs lived in the northeast neighborhoods. But now as he considered just how wealthy the Nikiforovs likely were, even the pretty, neatly hedged suburbs of North Hills seemed underwhelming.

But now he and his family were to finally see how Viktor and his family lived.

“It is important that you and your family attend. Vitya will be home this winter.” Lyuba said.

“And he’s requested that you be his first dance of the night!” Nina added, bouncing a bit on her feet.

Both statements took Yuuri a moment to process. At first an excited grin broke across his face at the news that Viktor was coming home. After so many years! Yuuri could finally see his old friend again! And then… wait, first dance?

“Me?” Yuuri pointed to himself, wondering if he misheard the second part.

Lyuba nodded. “This is why we must ensure that you can dance to our standards.”

Only the best for their precious Vitya, Yuuri figured.

“We didn’t want you to embarrass yourself.” Nina said, frankly, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Think of this as a favor.”

“Oh,” Yuuri deflated a little, offering a wobbly smile. Sometimes he had no idea if he felt grateful or insulted by Nina’s antics. “Thanks.”

Mama Lyuba didn’t waste any time sweeping Yuuri into the lesson. She handed him a Ralph Lauren bag and a shoebox, and pointed out the direction of the changing rooms behind the stage. He found the curtained rooms. From the shopping bag, he pulled a dress shirt and black slacks. In the shoebox were suede ballroom shoes. Yuuri remembered Minako teaching him a bit about different types of dance shoes, and was relieved by the small heels on these shoes that Lyuba had given him. That meant these were for practice. Thankfully. Yuuri wasn’t used to dancing on any sort of platformed shoe.

This wasn’t the first time the women had played dress up with Yuuri. Still, these clothes – he didn’t even want to know how much they cost, because whatever it was, it was probably an entire month’s salary from the pet shop – were uncommon to him. The shoes were such a weird shape to his feet. At least the material was breathable enough.

He returned to his trainers.

“We’ll start with the Waltz, since you think you know it.” Lyuba said with a clap of her hands. Yuuri restrained from voicing his offense on Minako’s part. His sensei was a great dancer. It was her teaching that had helped him catch the Nikiforovs’ eyes after all.

Mama Lyuba still insisted on teaching Yuuri how to Waltz from square one. Stubbornly, he tried to show off how he already knew the steps. The mothers, with their low tolerance for bullshitted overconfidence, thought he presented a sad excuse for ballroom dancing. He was switched around between each of them, as they all took turns trying to correct his mistakes.

“Stop checking your feet,” Mama Mei reminded him. “You keep looking down. You are to face your partner with confidence.”

“I’m leading now, see, you’ve lost the lead.” Mama Lyuba lectured, even though Yuuri was still the one leading the direction they took across the floor. She was right though, and it was her taking to the rhythm and directing each step. “You have to guide me into the rhythm. Don’t wait for me to find it on my own.”

“You’re blushing again!” Mama Nina offered with a giggle, when it was her turn again to dance with Yuuri. “I would scold you for that, but Vitya might think it’s cute.”

Yuuri only blushed deeper.

“We’re not going for cute!” Mama Lyuba snapped. “Yuuri is to be a gentleman. He will behave as such.”

At that, Yuuri pulled away from the dance. The music continued. Mama Lyuba leveled Yuuri with a look of displeasure.

“Did we say to stop dancing?”

“What if Viktor wants to take the lead?” Yuuri countered.

“When you’re confident enough to lead,” Mama Mei said, “Then we’ll teach you how to follow your partner.”

Yuuri tilted his head. That didn’t make much sense. Wouldn’t it be easier to learn how to follow the partner first? That would involve less thinking, at the very least. Not to mention, if someone was in the habit of leading, wouldn’t they have a hard time letting someone else take the lead?

Mama Mei, seeing right through Yuuri’s concern, shook her head.

“There is a great difference between deferring to someone because you lack confidence in your own ability, and deferring to someone because you respect them well enough to trust in your ability.”

“The ‘woman’ in the dance is not to be dragged around the ‘man.’” Mama Lyuba said, in addition. “She is to dance with him. As one unit. And if you cannot understand this, then you will be helpless in your dance with Vitya.”

Yuuri resisted the urge to groan. None of this was making sense. It never made sense. He had spent his life either dancing in the background, with a group, or once in a while daring to take on solos. Minako didn’t put him in many paired rolls, since these ballroom dance lessons were not the first time Yuuri struggled to sync up with a dance partner.

Oh, why did Viktor have to choose Yuuri as a first dance? It was so aggravating that Yuuri couldn’t get the hang of this. At this point in his life, he knew five different ways to kill someone with his bare hands, and could empty a magazine into a bullseye ten meters away.

Lyuba wasn’t entirely pleased that she had to start the music over, to go over the dance again. And again. And again. And again and again and again…

It was pushing midnight and Yuuri was only going through the basic steps of the Waltz. He had been going in circles and circles and basic, boring circles all night. Yet the mothers insisted that he kept getting it wrong. His shoes were pinching his feet, his head was spinning up to the rafters. It was through sheer willpower and familiarity with aching legs that Yuuri kept dancing through his frustration.

Finally, sometime around 12:15, Mama Lyuba clicked off the music.

“Enough, enough,” She sighed. “We will continue this on another day.”

-/-/-

Having collapsed dead into his bed the night before, Yuuri was only awoken in time by his mother’s excited announcement. Roman Nikiforov had in fact sent an invitation to the Katsuki family. Hiroko and Toshiya were besides themselves with the honor and excitement of such an invitation. In all the years that the Katsuki family had catered to the upper class, they had never been formally invited to such a momentous event.

As Yuuri got ready – quite reluctantly and dragging himself around on aching legs – for his morning shift at the pet store, his family danced around him. Never one for staying quiet about anything, Hiroko spread the news to all their regulars that day. She received both a chorus of envious congratulations and some ‘oh, Roman’s parties are the talk of the century, you’re going to have so much fun!’ from the clients who were already in Nikiforov’s circle. And of course, since it’s a small world, and anybody who’s anybody knows each other, news spread quickly.

It didn’t take more than half a day for Minako to find out, and she was on Yu-Topia’s doorstep by that night. Yuuri had just gotten back from his once a week three-hour long evening class. He was a little surprised that he hadn’t fallen asleep on the bus or hadn't missed his stop. His bed called to him from the third floor. Instead, Minako accosted him right at the reception desk.

“Yuuri, we need to brush up on your ballroom skills!” She shouted at him, grabbing him by the shoulders. Most fortunately, the salon was already closed and there were no customers to see this.

“Er… I don’t think…” Yuuri tried to protest, but was drowned out by Minako explaining that she had been to a few Nikiforov parties, and the dances were always the highlight. Ballroom, contemporary, club… anything. Dancing the guests into the night was essential to a party’s success.

Oh. Wonderful. Not only was Yuuri to be Viktor’s first dance, but he was to be Viktor’s first dance at a party where everyone would be focused on how well the dancing went.

If Yuuri mentioned this to Minako, then there’d be no way he’d get out of extra dance lessons. But then again, he realized that he needed all the help he could get. Minako, who had a little more experience in instructing Yuuri, might have better advice.

He swallowed, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake. “Actually, Minako, I…”

Surprisingly, she paused in her ranting.

“Viktor, he… he wants me to be his first dance.”

Minako’s eyes went so wide, the white just about drowned out the pupils. Her grip on his shoulders loosened, as her hands dropped to his wrists.

“Alright.” She finally squeaked out. “Studio. Now.”

Minako then proceeded to drag Yuuri through the waiting area, towards the exit, full meaning to throw Yuuri in her car and drive them to the ballet studio.

“B-but, it’s after eight!” Yuuri pointed out. Like that actually mattered to him. He hadn’t received a text, so he knew the mothers weren’t practicing tonight. Still, it got Minako to pause, her hand on the door.

She sighed. “Do you have class or work tomorrow?”

“Just work in the afternoon.”

“Alright, then I expect you at the studio at 7am sharp. I think I can fit you in before my 10am.”

With that, Minako turned on her heel and went back to the main floor of Yu-Topia, likely to extrapolate further on Hiroko’s excitement over the invitation.

“Ah, good night.” Yuuri let out, before collapsing onto one of the waiting room chairs.

-/-/-

For the next month, Yuuri was always two steps away from falling off a dance floor and into a coma. With Viktor’s mothers, he was still going over the basics of the Waltz, as they still deemed him inadequate at pair dancing. With Minako, he was at least learning how to dance in multiple styles, but she kept bringing him back to ballroom. Yuuri didn't know the last time he had gone so long without falling back on ballet.

He also still had school and his job at the pet store.

Speaking of said job, it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay awake through his mundane work. On one shift, Yuuri tried to focus on his task of resorting all the disorganized dog toys, and not Phichit standing too close and squinting at Yuuri’s haggard face.

Tug-a-war ropes in one bin, squeaky toys in another, make a mental note to order more of those geese toys hunting dogs liked so much… When Yuuri didn’t immediately acknowledge his friend’s existence, Phichit hummed loudly.

“Okay, okay,” Yuuri relented. “I know I look like shit.”

“How hard has your family been working you?”

It took Yuuri a second to remember the façade he relied onto to excuse his random training sessions. He shrugged a came up with another quick lie. “It’s not just that. Finals are coming up, you know. People want tutoring.”

“Geez,” Phichit huffed. “Between your ballet, schooling, this job, and all your side jobs, you hardly have any free time. I mean, when’s the last time we hung out?”

Yuuri yawned. Which didn’t quite help his case. He looked up at Phichit with a pleading expression. “I’m really sorry. I know that doesn’t make up for how distant I’ve been, but I am sorry.”

Phichit stared back, unperturbed. “That’s it. You need a coffee break.” Phichit hoisted Yuuri up by the arm and pulled him towards the door. Yuuri let it happen. It felt like, lately, everyone was dragging Yuuri somewhere. Phichit called out in the general direction they had last seen their manager. “Ciao Ciao?”

“Yes?” Celestino replied from across the small store.

“Yuuri looks like shit. I’m taking him to Starbucks for a quick break.”

“Alright. Make sure you clock out for break properly this time.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” And then in due time, Phichit had them both clocked out for a break across the street. At the Starbucks, Phichit got his usual S’mores Frappuccino, and Yuuri gave in to Phichit’s pestering by deciding on a simple, Tall iced coffee. He then gave in again when he saw the desserts on display. Stress eating was never a good habit, but there were cheesecake slices.

Yuuri sipped at his coffee while he obliged Phichit in taking pictures of the aesthetically pleasing caramel cheesecake. Phichit then took to Instagram to upload the photos – allowing Yuuri to take in more caffeine and sugar. Once Yuuri seemed a little more awake, Phichit turned on Yuuri.

“Okay, I’ve been meaning to tell you all day, so now that you’re not a zombie, I’ll tell you now.” Phichit then giggled at Yuuri’s perplexed head tilt, and blurted out, “I met a guy.”

Yuuri, who had been formulating more lies in the event that Phichit wanted to interrogate him, latched onto this right away. Sure, Phichit having crushes wasn’t anything new. He was the type to fall hard and fast, be as dramatic as humanly possible about the whole infatuation, and then move on without batting an eye once it all went downhill. Still, as long as the conversation wasn’t on Yuuri, he’d accept it.

“Yeah?”

Phichit sighed, his chin resting in his hand. “Mmhm. Met him in the park. I was sketching some birds, and he saw my drawings. He was there bird watching. Can you believe it, Yuuri? A kid like us, bird watching! I didn’t think anyone but adults did that.”

They were legally adults, Yuuri held back from pointing out.

“He was adorable, let me tell you. Knew all these details about birds. Complimented my drawings for having such detail.” Phichit paused. “Or at least, I _think_ he was complimenting my drawings. He never smiled. So mysterious, right?”

Oh, boy. A mysterious guy. Yuuri could practically see the drama unfold. But he still nodded and didn’t discourage his friend’s new crush.

“Do you have his number yet?”

“No, he doesn’t like giving out his number that easily. We’re going to keep meeting up in the park. Doesn’t that sound so romantic?”

“Yes. Bird watching always makes a fun date.” Yuuri answered, sarcastically.

Phichit stuck his tongue out. “So, anyways, how’s things with your boyfriend?”

When Yuuri’s reaction came out as a symphony of panicked and happy, he knew there was no hope of Phichit abandoning the subject.

“Omigosh, what happened?” Phichit demanded, putting his phone down.

“Well… he’s coming home this New Years’…”

“That’s great!!!”

“And he invited me to his family’s New Years’ party…”

“Oooh, gonna get a little somethin’ somethin’ at midnight.”

“Aaand he wants me to be his first dance for the night.”

Phichit paused in his next response. Yuuri watched his friend backtrack in his head. “Wait. First dance? Like. A ball?”

Yuuri let his chin fall into his hands, slumped over the table. “Yup. For him and all his family’s wealthy friends. Where I’ll most likely embarrass myself horribly.”

“But you’re a dancer.”

“Yeah, in ballet. I’ve been told my ballroom skills are, uh… not as up to par.”

Phichit snorted. “I doubt it.”

Yuuri twisted his mouth in disagreement and sighed.

“Hey, isn’t this the guy that liked your dancing so much that he showed up to one of your recitals?”

“Yeah.”

“Then think of this way. You’re not dancing for everyone else. You’re dancing for him. Clearly, he has a lot of respect for your skill and who you are as a person. Otherwise, he never would have asked.”

Yuuri blinked. That was such rational advice that it just… made sense of all of Yuuri’s confusion. Viktor wasn’t asking Yuuri to be his first dance for the sake of friendship alone. Hadn’t Viktor, for years, encouraged and supported Yuuri in his dancing?

' _There is a great difference between deferring to someone because you lack confidence in your own ability_ ,’ Mama Mei had said, ‘ _and deferring to someone because you respect them well enough to trust in your ability_.’

It finally clicked into place. Viktor thought Yuuri was a good dancer. Yuuri just lacked confidence. But Viktor believed in him. Enough that Yuuri thought, maybe just maybe, he could believe in himself too.

-/-/-

That night, during training, the mothers noticed the shift in Yuuri right away. He was riding a little high on his sudden burst of confidence. Yuuri was a good dancer. He could do this. He could do this for Viktor, who believed in him.

That confidence carried him through the steps, and only grew as the night went on. The mothers’ torrent of critiques turned to praise. When they decided it was time to let Yuuri learn the ‘woman’s’ part in the dance, he took to it easily, but didn’t cling to dependency on the lead. He glided across the floor, feeling like the music was his very soul, and he was walking on air.

“Perfect,” Mama Lyuba smiled, at the conclusion of their dance. “Absolutely perfect.”

-/-/-

Yuuri’s trainers called for him on his birthday. Fortunately, they texted him in the morning, just as he was getting out of class. He had plans for that night; Phichit, Leo, Guang Hong, Yuuko, and Takeshi were going to come over for his family’s homemade katsudon. Well, more like, Yuuko and Phichit had teamed up against Yuuri and insisted he do something for his birthday.

He was only turning nineteen. It didn’t feel all that special of a year.

Still, Viktor’s mothers insisted on getting him something for his birthday, as they did every year. Weird, because Yuuri didn’t remember ever telling them his birthday. The only explanation was that Viktor had told them.

The address given in the anonymous text message turned out to be a men’s clothing store and tailor. Yuuri’s jaw dropped when he saw the store front. Of course, this was easily the nicest area of the business district. The sidewalks were a pearly white, lined with well-tended trees and colorful, impeccable store fronts. There was a cute gelato shop right next door to the suit store.

Walking into the store, Yuuri was a little overwhelmed by emotion. Last year, Mama Nina had picked out a dagger, with a marble handle. The year before that, the mothers took him out to eat at a nice Japanese restaurant. And the year before that, Mama Mei picked out three sets of dress shirts and ties after seeing the ‘monstrosity’ that was the only suit Yuuri owned at the time. These had all been nice things. Truly, things that Yuuri’s family couldn’t buy him without moving some money around. But for the Nikiforov women, he knew that these gifts were small.

Just looking around himself, Yuuri knew that this year was going to be different. Yuuri met the women in the store. They were looking at potential materials and designs with one of the store’s main representatives. In a bit of a daze, Yuuri shook the man’s hand and was led to a table of books and other assorted items. He was then accosted with color choices and pictured options for buttons, lapels, pockets, cuffs...

It took a moment to sink in; he was going to receive a custom-made suit. The fact that he wasn’t shown any prices, nor were the women mentioning any cost, also stood out to Yuuri. He might not be an expert in fashion like Viktor or his mothers were, but Yuuri knew that a quality suit – in a Nikiforov’s opinion – was easily a few thousand dollars.

Mama Nina kept checking over Yuuri’s shock – as reality dawned on him. She giggled.

“Happy birthday!”

Yuuri blinked his round eyes. The books of fabrics and designs stared back up at him.

“We realized that you will need something to wear for the New Years’ party,” Mama Lyuba said, wearing a rare, warm smile. “Something that will suit the hard work you’ve put into all your dance lessons.”

“Oh.” Yuuri could feel his eyes turning moist. He had to swallow back his emotions. “Thank you.”

“None of that now,” Nina said, patting Yuuri’s arm. “Come on, let’s get you measured.”

-/-/-

Without batting an eye, the mothers paid for a $10,000 three-piece. The suit took two weeks to make, to when Yuuri was called back for an initial fitting.

When he saw himself in the mirror, even in the unfinished design, he nearly didn’t recognize himself. Sure, he had a say in the design, and he had an idea of how it would come out. Yet of all the times the mothers had played dress up with him, it had never been this elaborate.

It was a charcoal gray with a cool blue tinge. The wide, notched lapels were edged with a periwinkle. The waistcoat and double-breasted jacket were short in the front, with a slight swallowtail in the back. When Yuuri turned to admire it all, he felt like a Victorian gentleman.

For how ‘retro’ the design was, the colors weren’t flashy. The tie was a warm lavender, while the pocket handkerchief was white. The waistcoat was a silver gray with subtle swirling patterns. Yuuri loved the way it made him feel unique, refined, but without unnecessarily thrusting him into the spotlight.

The mothers made it clear that such a suit design was really only appropriate for certain parties, but Yuuri didn’t care. He loved it.

Once the shop ladies made sure that they had the right measurements, they told him to come back in a week for a final fitting. When he did, only Mama Lyuba was able to meet with him. That was alright. Of three women Yuuri was most comfortable being around one on one, it was Lyuba. Mama Mei had the awkward combination of aloofness and an odd sense of slapstick humor. Mama Nina was just… unpredictable. Even after all these years.

That left Mama Lyuba to stand behind Yuuri as he basked in the sight of his reflection. She stepped up onto the small platform, and with a pleased air, she swept Yuuri’s hair back. They both looked into the mirror.

“There. Just like a prince.” Lyuba said, placing her hands on his shoulders. She stood almost half a foot taller than him, even while just wearing two-inch heels. “Didn’t I tell you that one day you’d be a handsome danseur?”

Yuuri’s breath hitched. She remembered what she had told him. From all those years ago. Not trusting his voice not to wobble, he nodded. He hoped that she received all the gratitude he felt, which was threatening to spill out as tears.

There was just no way to repay all that these three women had done for Yuuri over the years. From being an inspiration, an image to chase after, to outright encouraging and teaching him how to reach that image. And still they found it in themselves to give him more gifts like this. He told Mama Lyuba as such, in an abridged version, to keep from messily rambling. She just shook her head, letting out an amused huff.

“All we want is for you to make our Vitya happy. You can do that, can’t you? Remind him that life isn’t just about ruling an empire.”

He agreed quickly. If that was all they wanted of him, then Yuuri would make Viktor's happiness his top priority without a moment's hesitation.

Before he took the suit home with him, Mama Lyuba had suggested that Yuuri wear contacts with the suit, instead of glasses. She knew very well that Yuuri had a tendency to abandon his glasses – and thus his eyesight – when he danced. She had already been nagging him for years about getting contacts. Just to appease her, he ordered a temporary pair of contacts from his eye doctor.

 

December 31

Explaining the suit to his family went easier than expected. All he had to do was vague about the Nikiforovs, and his family understood right away. Minako had already spilled the news about Viktor intending Yuuri to be his first dance. Consequently, they all wanted to gussy Yuuri up, much to his embarrassment and gratitude. Toshiya styled Yuuri’s hair, Mari helped him with the contacts, and Yuuko was permitted to apply some eyeliner and naked lipgloss. According to her, Yuuri’s skin was nice enough that he didn’t need concealer or foundation. (Yuuko was horribly jealous. It wasn’t fair at all – given Yuuri’s sugar intense eating habits. Yuuri found it a little amusing that she seemed more jealous of his skin than the fact that he and his family were going to the hottest party of the year.)

This time when Yuuri had to locate a new address, his family was with him. Granted, the other Katsuki knew the city and its routes well enough to get around as needed, but they had never seen how confident Yuuri had become in navigating.

The family took their only car, which they typically used for business errands. Yuuri offered to drive, a little too keyed up to go a slow route. Up to this day, Yuuri had wondered where and how exactly a family so ridiculously wealthy as the Nikiforovs would live. Turns out, on an island.

Not a privately-owned island. Dajie Island was just northwest off Lyon’s Peninsula, the main coastline of El Valle. The island was about two miles across. It had a few other properties and a small vineyard and winery. The Nikiforovs just had the biggest house.

House, or _palace_? Yuuri thought as they got to the end of the long driveway.

The 200 acres of the Nikiforov Estate was located on the southern farthest end of the island, its backyard facing small cliffs over the sea. The place towered over them – neoclassical style, three stories at its center, built of white masonry. More so, the house was striped with pale yellow marble columns and framed by two outward diagonal wings. With the number of tall, grand windows, Yuuri decided that he wouldn’t be surprised if the place had a hundred rooms.

A valet took their car for them, and then a balding, gruff looking butler checked for their names on the guest list.

Not once, during all of this, did the Katsuki family figure out how to undrop their jaws. The main foyer was circular, the iron railings of the second floor dripping with ivy plants. The place somehow smelled like a forest path and polished stone. Grandiosity overwhelmed their senses. Yuuri had to strain his neck to look up at the high ceiling, which was crowned with gold, centered by a grand chandelier.

The foyer was bordered by two curved staircases, but the guests were ushered down the left hallway of the main floor. The main ballroom was located there on the east end of the house, accessed by a trio of stone arches. On the opposite side of the ballroom were two-story high arched windows, draped with rustic red curtains, overlooking the sea. The wood flooring was a light maple, balancing with the curtains to keep the room welcoming and spacious. When Yuuri looked up, he saw that there was an overlook balcony running along the north side of the ballroom – most likely accessed from somewhere else in the house, since he didn’t see any stairs in this room. The ceiling was also lined and decorated, but with a deeper bronze color than gold.

Even though Yuuri had gotten his family there early, out of habit, the room was already filled with a couple dozen people. There was a small ensemble in the left corner of the room, currently playing Chopin. Not far from them was a vacant DJ stand. On the other side of the room were tables of refreshments and a bar. The center of the room seemed set aside for dancing, and glass doors were open to the deck outside.

Some people were listening to and appreciating the music, but most of the guests already there were mingling, with glasses of wine in hand. It was likely that the local vineyard provided a great portion of the wine selection, while places like Napa Valley and Burgundy boasted the rest.

The party was to commence at sunset – which was still another twenty minutes away. The ballroom was still tinged with the warm colors of a retiring sun.

But, ah, the host was not hard to spot.

Roman Nikiforov stood at the forefront of the dancefloor, entertaining a small crowd of people with business tinged humor. The people laughed, and stepped in closer to their host’s bright, charismatic smile. Yuuri also found himself moving further into the room.

While Viktor had inherited his eyes, lips, and stature from his mother, Yuuri could see where the rest of the genes came in the picture. Roman’s near silver hair was tucked into a neat ponytail, a well-trimmed beard framing his strong jaw. His face was lined with age, which was likely from the stress of running such an influential business, but age only made him look wise. He also had thin, quick eyes, beneath low brows and glasses.

Nina and Mei were with Roman, yet Yuuri had to do a double take to recognize them. Sure, these women certainly looked like Nina and Mei, but their posture was so different. Instead of her usual resting indifference to anything not worth her musing, Mama Mei leaned in towards Roman, making a comment here and there whenever he asked her opinion on something. She wore a striped silver and jade green skirt suit, her hair partially down.

Nina was also entirely focused on Roman, as she wasn’t making eyes at anyone in her general vicinity. For once, her attire went past her knees, and her hair was partially swept back into a loose bun.

What was most peculiar was that when Roman looked directly at either woman, they dipped their heads and diverted their eyes to the floor. They did as such demurely, their eyelashes fanning sweetly over their cheeks. Still, it was completely different from how Yuuri knew these women.

For all it felt like, Yuuri didn’t see anyone he knew well enough to feel comfortable approaching. There was no way he, some nobody, was going to interrupt Roman’s informal gathering. And he hadn’t yet seen Viktor.

Hiroko and Toshiya, on the other hand, had no problem with scattering to go chat with Yu-Topia regulars whom they recognized. Yuuri and Mari glanced at each other, and then Mari shrugged. He saw her dig in her inner suit jacket pocket for some cigarettes, and then watched her walk off towards the glass doors for an outside smoke.

Leaving Yuuri alone in a crowded grand ballroom.

Oh, this was a mistake. Yuuri was way in over his head here. He didn’t belong here. He belonged at a minimum wage pet shop job, or at a community college, or better yet an old urban ballet studio. Anywhere but in such luxury.

Unhelpfully, his mind started supplying every which way the evening could go wrong. To little surprise, even though he wasn’t of the legal age to drink, Yuuri found himself wandering over towards the bar. This party was hosted by a Russian family, after all. Maybe someone would take pity on Yuuri and sneak him something.

There was a handsome, blond man tending the bar when Yuuri approached. He looked about in his early twenties. Yuuri was surprised someone so young would be hired to serve at such a high class party, yet the man seemed fluent with the drinks he served. Yuuri stood back just to watch, not really intending to interact with anyone. The longer he watched the man’s flair and confident flirting – which kept guests coming back – Yuuri understood how such a young adult won over such a job.

Yuuri’s plan to stay unseen didn’t last long. The moment the man saw Yuuri, he let out a whistle. He motioned for Yuuri to come forward, which Yuuri did out of polite habit. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the man’s eyes roaming up and down his figure.

“This your first time?” The man asked, as he started pulling things together to make a drink. It took Yuuri a couple seconds to realize that the man wasn’t talking about sex. Yuuri’s face was already pink by the time he caught up with the actual meaning.

“That obvious?” Yuuri asked, and then noticed the man measuring out some rum. “Oh, I’m not 21 yet…”

“And I don’t have a liquor license to lose.” The man grinned. He had an indistinguishable European accent, which Yuuri could imagine was especially popular with the ladies. The bartender finished making the drink, a tumbler of Dark’n’Stormy, and passed it to Yuuri. “On the house.”

Yuuri hesitated.

“I promise the cops aren’t invited here.” The man added, with the same carefree vibe. But there was an undertone of ‘we’re rich enough to get away with this.’

What the hell. Yuuri took the drink; took an experimental sip. The rum sent a nice, confidence boosting warmth down his center. 

The man leaned on the bar in front of Yuuri, again studying everything but Yuuri’s face. Yuuri stilled under the man’s intense green eyes. “Hm, judging by what you’re wearing, you can’t be from downtown. But you don’t wear it like any old money kid I know. Let me guess… north bank of the Río?”

“Y-yeah.”

They were then interrupted by people wanting to order drinks. The bartender pulled away from Yuuri to provide his charming yet overwhelming service to everyone else. Meanwhile, Yuuri started gulping down his drink. The alcohol was making him feel more relaxed with each sip. When the bartended came back to Yuuri, he made no comment about Yuuri already being half way through his drink. Maybe because there was already someone at the end of the bar who had just downed six shots in the entire ten minutes that Yuuri had been standing by the bar.

“My name’s Chris, by the way.” The bartender offered a hand to shake, which Yuuri took. “No need to feel intimidated by me… unless you’re into that.”

Chris had added that last bit with a wink.

“Nice to meet you?” Yuuri replied, pulling back his hand. “I’m Yuuri.”

Chris chuckled. “Like the young heir. Don’t let our Yura hear that he has a name rival. He likes being the top dog.” Chris frowned a moment. “Or cat.”

“Noted.” Yuuri said. Truly, the one and only time he had met Viktor’s kid brother, Yuri had been sleeping three year old. And sure, while Mama Nina was more than happy to answer questions about her biological child, Yuuri still only knew bits and pieces about ‘little Yuratchka.’ Yuuri did know that Yuri was intended for the same boarding school that Viktor had attended. Yuri was probably twelve now.

“So, what brings you so far north?” Chris asked.

“Er, I’m sort of friends with Viktor.” Maybe it was the alcohol, but Yuuri also found himself leaning on the bar.

“Aren’t we all?” Chris nodded. “So, how’d you meet him? Through school? Were you a scholarship?”

Yuuri shook his head. “We met as kids. My family runs this spa and salon…”

His planned further explanation of the family business trailed off as Chris’ eyes widened.

“Well, well, well, so you’re the one people have been fussing about.”

Yuuri gulped. He didn’t like the sound of that. “I’m sorry?”

Chris tossed his hand in a dramatic flair. “Oh, I can’t tell you how many hopeful people were lined up, waiting for Viktor’s attention once he returned home. The eldest heir of an empire… you understand how it is. People want fame and riches, and they’ll sleep with any pretty face to get it.” Chris waggled his brows. “Especially a face as pretty as Viktor’s.”

Yuuri frowned, one brow up.

“Anyways, so our prince Viktor returns, and what do we all learn?” Chris leaned in close, like he was telling a secret. “That he already has a first dance in mind. Some kid from a family owned spa and salon, north bank of the Río.”

Yuuri blinked, as it settled in. “Oh.”

And just when Yuuri was really starting to rethink all his life decisions, Chris then glanced over Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Ah, speak of the devil. There he is!”

Indeed, there Viktor was. Yuuri felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight.

Viktor was with Mama Lyuba and a blonde, very grumpy preteen – likely the younger Yuri. Lyuba wore a long black dress, with a slit up the leg, and decorated with a precipitation of sequins around the waist. She walked like a queen – so unlike the more demure postures Yuuri had seen of Nina and Mei earlier.

Yuuri did notice who was with Viktor, but his attention was, honestly and shamelessly, mostly on his childhood friend.

He had nearly forgotten just how more beautiful Viktor was in person. Selfies sent over WhatsApp hardly did him justice. His three-piece was a satin cream, the suit jacket and v-neck waistcoat the same color. The tie was dark with a cool toned bluegreen flower design. There was a white rose on the thin black lapel. Even several yards away, Yuuri could see that the colors of Viktor’s suit made him seem all the more ethereal, his eyes a sharp blue like that of a winter spirit.

Those eyes then landed on Yuuri.

Yuuri shot up straight, warmth spilling across his cheeks. He finished off his drink and smacked the glass back onto the bar. Viktor’s brows dipped, his mouth parted as he looked at Yuuri. Yuuri watched as Viktor turned towards his mother and ask ‘who is that?’ The movement of Viktor’s lips were just as clear as if he had said it to Yuuri’s face.

He didn’t recognize Yuuri. Oh. Well. It wasn’t like Yuuri had sent a torrent of selfies over to Viktor over the years. Now that Yuuri thought about it, Viktor probably had two or three poorly lit selfies as reference – all of Yuuri in glasses and messy hair.

Mama Lyuba answered Viktor, telling him who this random Asian guy was.

Viktor did a double-take, and then his entire being lit up. He wasted no time in sweeping up to Yuuri. Before Yuuri had much time to react, Viktor was bowed before him and had taken Yuuri’s hand to leave a light kiss.

“Oh, I can’t tell you how relieved I am that the handsome stranger at my party is you, Yuuri. It would have been a shame not to grant someone so breathtaking the honor of a first dance.”

Ah…! _What_? It was a miracle that Yuuri didn’t become a puddle on the floor right then and there. It sure felt like his body was hot enough to melt. Okay, okay, it wasn’t like Viktor hadn’t ever flirted with Yuuri before. Winking emojis. Double entendre in texts. Playful banter during phone calls. Flirting was just Viktor’s thing. Yuuri knew that.

But, but, what was Yuuri supposed to say to _that_?

Viktor glanced up at Yuuri’s reaction, and then burst right out laughing. He still had his heart shaped smile – although, all childhood softness had disappeared from his cheeks. He didn’t look like a chipmunk anymore. Shame.

As he was contemplating the loss of Viktor’s chubby smile, Yuuri found himself being yanked into a hug, and, oh, that was when all his worries and second guessing slipped away.

Viktor was home. Viktor was here. They were in each other’s arms again. Everything was alright.

“I missed you so much.” Viktor whispered.

“I missed you too.” Yuuri said back.

They gripped onto each other so tight and for so long that they were only separated by Mama Lyuba’s authoritative cough.

“Ah, right,” Viktor said as he reluctantly pulled back from the hug. Yuuri didn’t miss the way Viktor’s hand didn’t leave Yuuri’s side. Viktor gestured to the preteen. “This is my little brother, the other Yuri.”

Other Yuri glared. “I’m not the other Yuri. I’m the original Yuri. This is just a commoner.”

“He’s older than you.” Viktor pointed out.

“It look like I care? I’m named after our grandfather, Yuri Nikiforov.” He made a face akin to someone snapping a bubble of gum. “Who are you named after?”

“Er,” Yuuri faltered. He could feel Lyuba’s strict eye on him. Training or not, he was expected to exhibit strength and poise. He steadied himself and replied with, “Doesn’t matter. I’m my own namesake. And you’re not your grandfather, are you, little boy? That means, right now, I’m the original Yuuri.”

Yuri’s jaw dropped. Viktor had to smother another laugh. Mama Lyuba just nodded in approval.

“Why you – ”

“It’s time for Roman to announce the first dance.” Mama Lyuba interrupted. “I should go find him. Yura, be nice to our guests.”

When she walked away, Yuri stuck his tongue out.

“Like I’m gonna stick around with this wannabe.” he muttered. “I’m gonna find Mila and Otabek. Later losers.” At that, with an underhanded middle finger, Yuri left Viktor and Yuuri alone.

“Charming, isn’t he? My little brother.” Viktor’s hand slipped up so that his arm wrapped around Yuuri’s shoulders.

“Yeah…” He glanced up at Viktor, who was looking right at Yuuri, his eyes twinkling.

“Shall we also go to the dancefloor?" Viktor tipped up Yuuri's chin with a gentle touch. "It’ll be our moment soon.”

Stage fright wormed its way back into Yuuri’s chest, threatening to overtake him. Instead, he forced himself to focus on Viktor’s reassuring presence at his side. Viktor guided Yuuri back to the center of the room, where Roman was welcoming all his guests. While Roman was giving his speech – which was eloquent, cheerfully personalized to those in attendance, from the bits and pieces that Yuuri did hear – Yuuri counted his exhales and inhales.

The music started out of nowhere, and Yuuri was once again pulled into Viktor’s arms. The floor around them was cleared to give space to the Nikiforov men and their partners. Roman’s first dance was with Lyuba, while Yuri danced with his mother. Everyone’s eyes were on the six people.

Yet, even while his heart threatened to beat out his chest, Yuuri’s muscle memory kicked in, and he slipped right into the rhythm that Viktor and the music created. This dance wasn’t for anyone else in the room, Yuuri remembered. Sure, people could watch, but all that mattered was Viktor right here. The two glided across the floor to the Vienna Waltz, twisting and turning with ease. Yuuri stepped without a second thought, all his attention on the face he had missed for so long.

At a swell of music, Viktor spun Yuuri, and brought him back to his chest without a break in the dance. “As always, you are a wonderful dancer.” Viktor complimented.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said, his cheeks pink, but his heart now steadied. “You are as well.”

And he was. Yuuri had no idea what he had been agonizing over this entire time. Viktor led with confidence, but he didn’t drag Yuuri or force the speed. Instead, just as the mothers said it should be, Viktor respected Yuuri’s own ability to keep up with the dance. It was perfect. Yuuri found himself melting – into the music, into Viktor’s hold, into Viktor’s eyes…

The first dance concluded far too soon. The musicians turned their pages to play something with a tempo more people could keep up with. The guests converged back onto the dance floor, allowing for numerous dance partners to choose from. Viktor, however, had no intention of letting Yuuri go anytime soon. Roman danced with each of the woman of his harem, and then with all the other important women in attendance (including the mayor). Viktor kept asking Yuuri to dance one more dance with him, each time a song ended. Shamelessly, Yuuri obliged each time.

It was Mama Lyuba, again, who broke them apart. Although she was holding back a pleased smile, appreciating how happy Yuuri was making Viktor, she reminded her son that there were others he needed to entertain. As emphasis, she gestured to a group of other city heirs who had been giving Yuuri the stink eye. Yuuri let Viktor go for the next two hours or so, to let Viktor mingle and dance with all the others trying to catch his eye. Still, even when they were across the room from each other, Viktor and Yuuri would catch each other’s eyes, smiling as if they were in on some big secret.

In the meantime, Yuuri met others. He hung out at the bar for most of the time, to chat with Chris. There he met Otabek and Mila. Their parents were house staff, the kids having grown up quite close to the Nikiforovs. It was obvious, within a few minutes of conversation with these two, why Yura preferred their company over anyone else's. It was also interesting how the kid of the emperor would grow up so close to future house staff. Otabek, who was fifteen, and Mila, who was fourteen, were planning on taking over their parent’s role in the house. 

Sometime around 10:30, Viktor found Yuuri finishing off a second Dark’n’Stormy. Viktor deigned to say nothing of the underaged drinking. He simply informed Yuuri that Roman wanted to meet him.

It felt a bit late to meet Viktor’s Papa for the first time. To be fair though, Roman had been surrounded by fellow business folk and local politicians by the time the ballroom dancing had concluded. Thinking of it that way, Yuuri felt flattered that Roman had asked after him by name. And anxious as all hell. What would a man who had such strict expectations for Viktor think of some middle class kid?

“Yuuri Katsuki, yes?” Roman greeted with a handshake and short bow. Yuuri returned the greeting in kind. Roman held a glass of something alcoholic. Up close, Yuuri could see the color of Roman’s eyes: a blue so pale, they were almost silver. There were also light freckles across his nose and cheeks. Yuuri wondered if Viktor had inherited those freckles, even if just to appear in the summer sun.

“Wonderful to finally meet you.” Roman continued, confident and practiced like he was presenting something. His straight, white teeth caught the room lights every time he smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you and your family. How are they doing, your family?”

“They’re doing well, thank you for asking.” Yuuri answered. He then tacked on, “We’re all very grateful for your invitation.”

“Good, good. How are you enjoying the party so far?” Roman tossed a knowing smile in Viktor’s direction.

Yuuri hoped no one who would care had smelled the alcohol on his breath. He also hoped that Roman didn’t mind Yuuri hogging his eldest son for so many dances. “It’s wonderful. Though… it’s the first time I’ve been to a party that wasn’t for a birthday, so I’m sure now no other party could compare.”

Roman laughed at that. A short, bark of a laugh that seemed more like he was laughing _at_ Yuuri than with him. “Well, I apologize for ruining all future parties.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.” Yuuri joked, his voice quiet.

Roman laughed again and patted Yuuri on the shoulder. “Good man, good man. Well, again, it was good to meet you. I hope the rest of the night treats you well.”

“Privilege to meet you as well.”

Roman nodded. “Have a good New Year, then?”

“Yes. You too.”

And then that was it for Yuuri’s first meeting with Roman Nikiforov. It left him feeling like he had just left a job interview, but the manager had only left it off with a ‘I’ll call you.’

He checked up at Viktor. “Er… how does he feel about me?”

A mask fell over Viktor’s expression. “Just as he said. He thinks you’re a good person.”

Yuuri frowned. He hated it when Viktor lied, but he had no reason to think that either Roman or Viktor had been lying to him just now. So Roman thought Yuuri was a good person? That wasn’t a bad thing, was it? Why was Viktor acting like it was a bad thing?

“Don’t worry about it,” Viktor interrupted Yuuri’s thoughts. “Come on, the DJs getting ready to play. Dance with me?”

There was no way Yuuri could turn down another dance with Viktor. They left their suit jackets in the care of a staffer, and then Yuuri let Viktor pull him over towards where others were gathering in anticipation of the DJ. Yuuri watched the teen he met earlier, Otabek, stepped up onto the stand.

Otabek turned out to be a great DJ, for his young age. At the very least, there was never a dull moment, as a mix of classic club songs, current top hits, and vinyl rock kept different people dancing at any time. It was all mixed along with a heartbeat stringing bass. Young Yuri rocked out by the speakers the entire time, which Yuuri worried couldn’t be good for the preteen’s developing ears.

For 90s kids Yuuri and Viktor, there were a great number of songs that had them up and dancing on each other. Soon the nerve-wracking encounter with Roman slipped from Yuuri’s mind. All he thought of, all he felt, were Viktor’s hands on his hips. This was so different from their first dance, and yet so much the same. Viktor and Yuuri seemed to move as one unit, with little thought. They moved closer and closer to each other, until there were moments Viktor was behind Yuuri, moving Yuuri with his entire body. Yuuri felt like he was on fire again, for more reasons than just how packed the crowd was, or how tight his clothes suddenly felt.

Soon, when Viktor asked, Yuuri gratefully accepted a water break.

“I want to show you something,” Viktor said, a little breathless. The two fetched back their suit jackets and coats, and then Viktor took Yuuri outside. They went out to the deck from the ballroom, and then down into a garden laid out on the east side of the house.

Still warm from so much dancing, Yuuri didn’t quite notice yet how cold the night was. But it was in the mid-thirties – unusual for Southern California, even in the winter. Viktor walked them through trimmed hedges, past sculptures and beautiful flower arrangements, until they arrived at the end of the garden. There, right over the cutoff to the sea, was a small white gazebo. Its roof was black, with warm light shining out from a peak.

Out on the water, a great distance away, were some barges preparing for the midnight fireworks. To the left, city lights shone out over the dark waves. To the right, they could just barely make out the mass that was Xiaomei Island – Dajie Island’s little sister. From behind them, the party carried on, while the sea carried faint sounds of other parties and sirens from the city. But the gazebo was such middle ground, that all this commotion was drowned out.

“I’ve always loved the sea.” Viktor said, reverently. The two stood at the railing. “I missed this view terribly while in Sacramento.”

“It’s beautiful.” Yuuri agreed. While Yu-Topia was just down the street from the Río Alto, their house wasn’t situated well enough for Yuuri to look over the river anytime he wanted. What luxury, to be privileged with this view anytime he wanted.

A sea chilled wind caught them, and Yuuri shivered.

“Cold?” Viktor asked. And then without waiting for a response, he gathered Yuuri back into his arms. He spooned Yuuri, so that the two could both still look out over the water. “Don’t worry about me. I got a little more used to these temperatures on my travels.”

“Just admit it. It’s your Russian blood.” Yuuri murmured, feeling cozier as he rested his head back on Viktor’s chest.

Viktor laughed, a much warmer laugh than that of his Papa’s. “Oh, Yuuri, when did you get so sassy? I love it.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I love everything about you.”

Yuuri’s chest blossomed in so much warmth, that he couldn’t feel the sharpness of the cold. He tried to remind himself that Viktor was naturally a flirtatious person.

But there at the seaside, his best friend’s arms wrapped around him, protecting him from the cold… Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to care.

“It’ll be midnight soon. We should head back inside.” Yuuri said, not at all wanting to move from the spot. He rejoiced when Viktor was equally reluctant.

“They’ll survive without me.”

Yuuri hummed in agreement. The rest of the world had Viktor for eleven years. It was now Yuuri’s turn to have Viktor to himself.

Another wind spun around them, and with it came a swirl of white flakes. Little spots of snow fell gently in front of them. It was too warm for the snow to stick – or even stay solid before reaching the ground. Each flake appeared gently from the sky and disappeared just the same.

Yuuri stared in wonder. This moment was magic. It was the only explanation.

Their hands fell back to the railing. Viktor’s right hand graced the top of Yuuri’s left, and then in a moment of boldness, Yuuri placed his right hand on top. The two shifted their bodies so that they could look at each other.

Viktor leaned in, and Yuuri didn’t stop him. Their lips met. A gentle, chaste press.

Yuuri had never understood the meaning of ‘the stars aligned’ until that moment. In all these years, how had he never noticed that he had been falling for his best friend? How had he not realized until now just why it felt so right to have Viktor here with him?

He was certain now that he didn’t have the strength to let go, ever again.

“Coffee?” Yuuri blurted out.

Viktor jerked his head back a moment, blinking in surprise.

Yuuri cleared his throat and clarified. “Would you like to go out for coffee? With me? There’s this nice café I know of just down the street from my house, if that’s alright, not too far–”

Viktor placed a finger over Yuuri’s mouth, shushing him with a smile. “I’d love to. Text me when you’re free?”

“Alright.”

’10!’

The two glanced behind them at the house. All the guests had now poured out onto the deck, awaiting the fireworks show. They were all counting down, their shouts carrying across the garden. No one seemed to notice Viktor and Yuuri, stolen away in the shadows.

‘7, 6, 5!’

Viktor and Yuuri looked back at each other, their eyes dancing.

‘3, 2!’

“Happy New Year, Vitya.” Yuuri smiled.

Fireworks lit up the night sky in all the colors that Yuuri felt as Viktor kissed him again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> destroy the idea that the height of fashion are ill-fitted plain black suits I am b e g g i n g y o u
> 
>  
> 
> Probably some of you: hey wait isn’t this supposed to be a mafia au?!? What the diddly darn heck is all this fluff doing here??  
> Me: well, you see, this is my fanfic. And in my fanfics, I quite enjoy the duality that is Yuuri Katsuki and his ability to both seduce and endear. So suck it  
> A few others: okay, yeah, but where's that update to SioN??  
> Me: look. my sweet summer child. writer's block is a mean old mister, don't even look at me


	3. with hearts involved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos, subscriptions, bookmarks.... holy jesus I've never had a fanfic this well received before. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

- _From: Viktor_

 _I’m looking forward to our date tomorrow <3_ –

That was the message Yuuri woke up to the morning of January 2nd. It was almost too good to be true. Yuuri had only offered that he and Viktor go out for coffee at one of Yuuri’s favorite cafes, the Nook, which was a street over from Yuuri’s high school. The place was popular not just for students, but for romantic rendezvous as well. Everyone wanted their coffee shop romance.

It flew Yuuri all the way to cloud nine that Viktor confirmed their get-together there as a date. Was Yuuri suddenly living in a romcom? That New Year’s party was absolutely perfect; Yuuri hadn’t been able to think of anything else since. All those Yu-Topia regulars had been right about the Nikiforovs as hosts. Party of the century for sure. There was a good chance Yuuri would end up developing a permanent blush on his cheeks and dopey expression before the week was out.

Of course, when Yuuri got to work for that day, there was little hiding his excitement from Phichit. Such excitement was only amplified by Phichit being giddy over the fact that the mystery guy at the park had finally given Phichit his contact info. Well, it was an email address – to send artwork by – but it was good enough for Phichit. For now, at least.

Their manager Celestino found himself having to remind the boys twice to get back to work, when Yuuri and Phichit had completely forgotten that customers existed or that merchandise boxes needed to be unpacked, in favor of exchanging reports of their blossoming love lives.

“And he just kept asking you to dance?” Phichit grinned.

“Yeah. His mom had to cut in and tell him to dance with someone else.”

“Oh my god he’s so into you. See, didn’t I tell you? Nothing to worry about.”

“I know, I know.” Yuuri chuckled as his own expense. “Your advice really helped. Thanks.”

Phichit preened, striking a confident pose. “Of course. I am the best!”

“Uh huh, and pray tell, Mr. Romance Expert, how’re you gonna win over a guy who thinks arithmetic counts as a hobby?”

“I am _working_ on it.” Phichit swatted at Yuuri’s arm. “Look, I know Seung sounds boring, but he’s actually really interesting to talk to and he’s so intense, and you can just tell he’s passionate about the things he does, you know?”

Yuuri shook his head. He had heard all of this before. Each time Phichit ran into his mystery man, Seung, at the park, Yuuri was updated on every detail and word spoken before the day was out. Phichit would have said more on the matter of his current crush, if it weren’t for Celestino interrupting them. Their manager even threatened to separate the boys to different sides of the store if they couldn’t stay on task.

Reluctantly, they listened, and Phichit promised to text Yuuri after work.

-/-/-

The day of the date, Phichit texted Yuuri asking what Yuuri planned to wear. Outfit options hadn’t yet occurred to Yuuri, and Phichit praised himself for having to foresight to help Yuuri pick something out. They switched to video chat. It took Yuuri an hour of raiding his closet to put together something that Phichit deemed fashionable.

When he looked in the mirror, Yuuri had to admit that it was a nice outfit.

Jeans rolled up into capris, a black blazer, an unwrapped loose plaid tan scarf, and a dark gray cap. Viktor would definitely appreciate the ensemble.

Yet to Yuuri, it felt overdone. Whether this was a date or not, Yuuri was meeting up with his childhood best friend. It didn’t feel right to build up this glorified persona.

With Phichit’s reluctant blessing, Yuuri ditched the blazer for one of his comfier jackets, and picked out a scarf that functioned more for warmth than appearances. After some debate, he decided to keep the cap and the jeans rolled up.

Yuuri had just concluded the video call when Mari tapped on his bedroom door. He checked the time and cursed, noticing that he had gotten so carried away with picking out an outfit that he now only had seven minutes to get to the café. He would have to run if he didn’t want to be late.

“Yeah, I’m headed out now!” Yuuri called out to Mari, assuming that she was there to remind him to get going.

“Viktor’s here to pick you up.”

“What?” Yuuri bolted out the door, causing Mari to back up into the hallway wall. “He’s here? Already?”

“Yeah.” She looked at him funny, and then glanced past him to see the clothes scattered across the bed. “Are you actually going on a date with him?”

Yuuri blushed and shut his room door behind him.

Mari snorted. “I remember when you two were kids. I mean, you’re still a kid, in my mind. Probably always will be, with your little puppy crush.”

“Mari!” Yuuri complained, already backing down the hall.

“Whatever. Have fun. Make good choices.” She waved her hand to let him go. Yuuri nodded and rushed downstairs and towards the waiting area. Sure enough, Viktor was right inside the front door. He was chatting with one of Yu-Topia’s regulars – Janette, if Yuuri recognized her right, a redheaded serial gossiper. Yuuri grimaced. News of the date would be common knowledge to everyone within the hour.

But then Yuuri noticed the bouquet of white lilies that Viktor held, and suddenly the gossip of chatty old ladies wasn’t important to him. They were the exact type of flowers that Viktor had given Yuuri that one time he had attended Yuuri’s ballet recital. The same type of flowers that little Yuuri had meticulously pressed into the biggest books he could find in his house, so that he could preserve them forever.

“Viktor.” Yuuri said, both in awe and to announce his presence. Viktor looked over at him, immediately forgetting Janette, who he had been tolerantly polite towards.

Viktor swept over to Yuuri and presented the flowers. “For the wonderful privilege it was to dance with you.”

Janette made some sort of excited squeak and was now pulling out her phone. Yuuri did not want to share this moment with anyone else. Maybe he was selfish, or self-conscious. He couldn’t tell when he was now understanding, in that moment, what a stomach of butterflies felt like. Yuuri accepted the flowers with one hand, before taking Viktor’s hand in the other to lead him outside.

Once safely outside and around the corner from where the glass door was, Yuuri looked back to Viktor. He wanted to thank Viktor for the flowers, and remark positively about him being early, but with all the summersaulting butterflies in his stomach, it came out as,

“Thank you, the flowers are early.”

Yuuri was already wincing before he even uttered the last word, but to his absolute surprise, Viktor didn’t tease him for the slip. Instead, Viktor flushed, rubbing the back of his head. He looked off with a nervous twitch in his brow.

“Oh? Are they too much?”

“No, no, no.” Yuuri jumped forward. “I love the flowers. I just, um, you’re early. To meeting. Picking me up?”

Viktor blinked, his expression morphing between relief and further worry. His hands fumbled at reaching out towards Yuuri, and then hesitating. It was so unlike the normally composed prince that Yuuri started to giggle.

“Should I not have come this early…?” Viktor ventured, the poor man looking all the more uncertain with Yuuri’s awkward, equally-nervous-as-Viktor giggling. Yuuri could tell that Viktor was uncomfortable, which was freaking Yuuri out, because they hadn’t even gone anywhere and Yuuri was already messing up everything.

He had two choices. Slowly increase in octave with his giggling, or do something to reassure Viktor. Yuuri chose the latter. Set, he sprung forward to leave an impulsive kiss on Viktor’s cheek.

It worked. Sort of. Viktor blushed so hard that his nose and ears went pink.

“Weirdos.”

The two looked behind themselves to see Mari leaning in the entrance of Yu-Topia, her arms crossed and one brow quirked. Fortunately, Janette wasn’t there to witness the catastrophe that was two friends navigating a romantic situation. Or maybe she had already run off to tell everyone that Yuuri Katsuki was a mess (literally no surprise) and that Viktor Nikiforov wasn’t as smooth as his public persona (big surprise, groundbreaking reveal).

“Oh, should we get going?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor didn’t move.

“Viktor? Everything alright?”

“I’m… feeling self-conscious.”

“You? Why?”

Viktor pulled car keys from his pocket, pointed them out towards a line of cars parked alongside the street’s parking meters. A Cadillac convertible beeped back at them. The roof was up, for the cold weather, but somehow it being a convertible wasn’t the main point of interest. The car was hot pink. Which was now rivaling the color of Viktor’s cheeks.

“Is it too ostentatious?” Viktor asked, quietly.

Yuuri took Viktor’s hand again. “No. I love it.”

Viktor sighed out in relief. They started to make their way to the car, when Yuuri remembered the bouquet he was holding. He turned back to Mari.

“Oh, could you – ” he held out the bouquet, and Mari took it.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” She then pointed at Viktor. “Also. I don’t care how rich you are, Nikiforov. You hurt my brother… well, you know the deal.”

“Believe me,” Viktor said back with a sincere smile. “I have no such ill intention. Your brother is far too important to me.”

Mari made a face before turning to go back inside.

Viktor and Yuuri headed out. They discovered, upon arriving at their destination, that finding parking was difficult. It was already a popular area, even without the Nook. There were some family restaurants, a Tae Kwon Do place (that Yuuri had not been called to train at, leaving him to assume it was outside the Nikiforov sphere of influence), and a comic book shop.

Viktor had to drive around a couple times before finding a space a few buildings down from the cafe. Which wasn’t too bad. Viktor paid the parking meter before Yuuri could offer.

(One of the downsides to living urban. Time limits on outings. The meter dictated a two-hour time limit.)

The two joined hands again and walked over. After a minute of quiet, Yuuri decided to make conversation.

“So, er, can I ask why you drive your own car? Isn’t it a hassle?”

“I had a car in college.” Viktor shrugged. “I guess I got used to it. Besides, I like going on drives as stress relief.”

Yuuri checked to make sure that Viktor was serious. It was hard to believe. Traffic around the city was such a nightmare, that Yuuri had no idea how anyone, who was already upset, wouldn’t end up stressed out enough to commit murder.

“What do you have against driving? Yuuri, I thought you liked my car.” Viktor held his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

Yuuri laughed just as they arrived at the cafe. Viktor held the door open for Yuuri. So maybe some rich people had manners. Yuuri commented on such.

“Yuuri!” Viktor cried. “You’re being so hard on me today! I’m trying my best.”

“I know.” Yuuri smiled up at him. “But you don’t have to try so hard. I just want you to be yourself. I… I’ve missed you.”

Viktor’s eyes widened, his breath caught. He stared down at Yuuri as if Yuuri was more than some average face in the crowd, who just happened to know how to dance. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Yuuri startled, and looked about himself. The Nook was filled with as many people as it normally was – which was a lot. “There’s so many people here…”

“A quick kiss? I’ll behave.”

Yuuri bit his lip, tempted. Some self-conscious part of his brain worried that there were people here who knew who Viktor was, what he looked like. These same people might give Yuuri trouble for snatching up a local celebrity. But the rest of his brain really, really wanted that kiss. Also, you know what? Screw what those people thought.

He nodded. When Viktor leaned down to leave an innocent peck, as promised, Yuuri kept him there for a second longer. Truthfully, Yuuri had been aching for another one of Viktor’s kisses. He couldn’t quite explain why, but kissing Viktor felt like coming home.

Viktor was beaming when they pulled apart.

The embarrassment still caught up with Yuuri.

“Ah, let’s get in line to order something!” He insisted, pulling Viktor towards the barista. 

The Nook, along with fancy coffee drinks, served a number of made to order sandwiches, soups of the day, fresh baked goods, and – Yuuri’s favorite – a plethora of tea choices. Well, Yuuri wasn’t picky when it came to the coffee vs. tea debate. Any hot beverage did the trick for him.

Today he felt like ordering a chai latte. And after some internal debate, he also bought a salted caramel cookie that had been staring at him from the display case. He should have had some better self-control, but the baked goods from the Nook were always hard to resist.

“Still have a sweet tooth, I see.” Viktor remarked as the barista exchanged the cookie for Yuuri’s debit card.

“I guess I can’t outgrow everything.” Yuuri shrugged, his face a little pink.

“I like it.” Viktor said, wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s waist. “Reassures me that it’s still you, and not some sex god that replaced you while I was gone.”

“Viktor!” Yuuri shoved against him, thanking his lucky stars that the barista was currently off making Yuuri’s drink.

Viktor laughed and held tight. The barista came back to Yuuri and Viktor pulling off some weird struggle, with Yuuri laughing as Viktor tried to land a kiss on his cheek.

The barista passed the latte over towards Yuuri. “Aw, you two make such a cute couple!”

Viktor and Yuuri paused, now realizing they had an audience. There were also a few people behind them in line either pretending not to notice the boys, or smiling openly in amusement.

“Oh,” Yuuri pulled apart from Viktor, and Viktor let him go so that he could retrieve his drink. His face was now burning. “This is actually our first date.”

“Really? Would have fooled me. We see tons of first dates in here.”

“Well, we’ve been friends for a long time.” Yuuri explained, ducking his head. The barista nodded in understanding, and then smiled over at Viktor.

“And what would you like?”

Viktor ordered his drink and food. Once they both had what they wanted, the two slipped off to the far end of the café. Most people were situated near the stage – located right off the entrance, strung with white lights, but not presently hosting any performers – or along the bar adjacent to the front counter, where there were outlets for plugging in phones or laptops.

The back corner was Yuuri’s favorite place to sit. There were times that he and Phichit had hung out here after school, and while Phichit would sketch out still-lifes, Yuuri would play away on his DS. The lighting back here was soft and warm, and there were a couple couches with light blue green pillows.

Now, Viktor and Yuuri hardly took their eyes off each other. The conversation started off in the slightly awkward manner of ‘so how have you’ve been doing?’ Yuuri was worried that since the two were now updated on each other’s lives, there’d be less to talk about. He didn’t think he could handle any awkward silences on their first date.

But within a few minutes, neither had to use any introductory questions to keep the conversation flowing. They talked about everything under the sun, it seemed. It was far too easy to lose track of time. By the time the two hours had rolled by, Viktor and Yuuri had to run back to the car, just to appease the parking meter in time.

On the drive back to Yuuri’s place, the conversation didn’t stall. Once parked outside, the two attempted to say good bye three times, and each time one thought of ‘one last thing’ to say, which morphed into another ten minutes of talking.

Yuuri finally started to notice that someone was staring at them for taking up a space and not paying for it, so he opened the car door as a means to force himself to get out.

“I had a wonderful time with you.” Viktor said, recognizing that it was time to go.

“I did too.” Yuuri said back, and then hesitated. “I just…”

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if… we could go somewhere a little less… crowded. Something with just you and me.”

Viktor took Yuuri’s hand and kissed him gently there. “I was thinking the same thing. I know a place. Just let me know when you have a full day off.”

They then kissed on the lips again. Sweet, innocent. Finally, Viktor let Yuuri go inside.

Yuuri got back in his room to find the white lilies in his window sill, safely in a vase.

-/-/-

Waiting for their next date was torture. Yuuri already knew that a sign of adulthood was learning how difficult it was to coordinate a hangout. But he thought that was just for groups of four or more. He severely underestimated how busy he and Viktor were – especially Viktor – and just how impossible it was for them to coordinate an entire day off.

For one, Yuuri had to pester Viktor’s moms to let him know, against protocol, when they planned to train. They agreed to let him know which two days a week they wouldn’t be training, just so not everything was revealed. Yuuri accepted that. Viktor had been vague about how late the two of them would be out; Yuuri didn’t want to run off and cut the date short just because of a randomly announced training session.

Further frustrating was the fact that Roman was now putting Viktor to work seemingly 24/7. There were a couple times that Viktor had texted Yuuri at one in the morning – only catching Yuuri for his night owl qualities alone – talking about how tired he was. Viktor couldn’t ask for a day off as easily as Yuuri originally thought possible.

It sometimes made Yuuri wonder if Roman didn’t like Yuuri after all, and used every means to keep him and Viktor apart.

It took a little over a month for them to set aside a day, but by then Yuuri was just grateful that they could pull it off.

The morning of the date, Yuuri dressed warm, just as Viktor instructed him. He still had no idea where or what they were going to be doing – besides assuming it would be something outdoors – and was a little more than grumpy that he had to wake up at sunrise.

Viktor picked Yuuri up with his pink Cadillac. He made up for the early wake up call by presenting a latte he had picked up on the way there. Yuuri accepted the coffee gratefully. When he looked behind him at what was in the backseat, he saw two sport backpacks and a small cooler.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise!” Viktor winked. Yuuri found himself envious of Viktor’s early morning energy. He resigned himself to the mystery, sat back in his seat, and sipped at the coffee.

The drive took them up in the direction of Viktor’s house. But instead of continuing on towards the exit for Dajie Island, Viktor turned off the highway early, and towards Zumwalt State Park. The park was situated in the mountains, and it boarded Zumwalt Lake. Both park and lake had a slight Z shape. Truthfully, these mountains were small compared to what was out east of the city. In fact, these peaks weren’t any higher than 1,500 feet. Still, it being the site of a state park, the forests were thick and untouched. This was a popular site for camping.

It still being winter near the ocean, and a chilly 51 degrees outside, there weren’t many cars in the dirt paved parking lot. Branching off from the parking lot were some trails. Some led up towards the mountains, one led towards the lake, and there was one big enough for cars to drive towards the recreational camping grounds.

There was a nature and registration center next to the car trail, with some picnic tables scattered around it.

“We’ll have breakfast here, and then we’ll hike out towards the lake.” Viktor said as he unbuckled. He checked over at Yuuri. “Is that alright?”

“When you said you knew a place, I half expected something on your island… or maybe even renting out a restaurant, I don’t know.”

“I could do that, you know. Rent out a restaurant, if you want.”

Yuuri shook his head. He didn’t need Viktor’s money or status. “This is perfect.”

It was. Yuuri couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day with Viktor.

They had breakfast at the picnic tables. Viktor had packed homemade parfaits in the cooler. There were also some water bottles in the cooler, which Viktor transferred to the backpacks.

Certainly, these were some high-end backpacks. Yuuri’s family never went camping, but even he could make out the quality in the manufacturing. Still, for someone as wealthy as the Nikiforovs, two backpacks of non-perishable food was roughing it.

“You know… I thought all rich people camped in the luxury of accessorized RVs.” Yuuri joked, once their breakfast was concluded and they were putting on the backpacks. Viktor walked up to Yuuri to make sure Yuuri’s scarf was tight and proper. He adjusted Yuuri’s beanie to cover his ears.

“I like doing the opposite of what people expect.” Viktor said. “It keeps people on their toes.”

Yuuri, sensing the opportunity for a bad pun, stood en pointe to peck Viktor on the nose.

“It got me on my toes.” He grinned, mischievously.

Viktor grabbed Yuuri and retaliated by dipping Yuuri, just to nibble him on his nose. Yuuri laughed, his happiness echoing off the landscape, and was only shushed by Viktor kissing him on the lips.

Yuuri’s chest felt all warm and mushy. Just like when they stood out in the gazebo, Yuuri couldn’t feel the cold of the air, for how warmed he was by Viktor’s affection. Just the two of them, it was so easy. It was hard for Yuuri to now remember what it was like not to have Viktor by his side, to not recognize his feelings for his friend.

They headed out on the lake trail, holding hands.

The hike was easy, which was helpful for an indoor creature like Yuuri. There was only a slight elevation up and then down on the way to lake. The trail wasn’t more than a mile, so it only took them thirty minutes going at a leisurely pace.

Given that it wasn’t close to lunch yet, the two took a break just to drink some water, and then chose a trail that would take them around the circumference of the lake. Contrasting the journey into the park, going around the lake was a seven mile hike. That took about four hours. By the time the two returned to the trailhead, they were more than ready to set up for lunch.

Viktor chose a spot by the shore, where an oak reached its roots into the lake, and laid a blanket down on the grass. There they fed their grumbling bellies. Once satisfied, the two lied back on the blanket, content to relax and watch the clouds.

“Thank you.” Yuuri said, after a long, comfortable silence. “I think I needed this.”

“I did too.” Viktor squeezed his hand. He stared at the sky with a wistful expression. “I feel like we’re the only ones on Earth.”

Yuuri liked that idea. Maybe not for forever, because he loved his friends and family, and couldn’t imagine life without their affection and support. Yet, with all the years he and Viktor were apart, Viktor was that one person Yuuri wanted to hold on to and never have to let go. Even if they hadn’t been friends forever, there was something about Viktor that just felt right, familiar…

Watching the clouds cross the sky, while the wind rustled the sleeping trees, Yuuri thought about reincarnation. He thought of the possibility that this wasn’t the first time he and Viktor met. How many lives had they known each other? Through how many circumstances had they found each other? Had Viktor and Yuuri crossed galaxies to meet? Yuuri liked the idea that they did.

The two of them must have dozed off, because when Yuuri’s eyes opened again, the sun was lower in the sky. Viktor checked his watch to report that it was about three thirty.

“Are you hungry?” Viktor asked. He sat up, pulled his backpack towards himself, and offered Yuuri some peanut butter crackers. Yuuri refrained from joking ‘I’m always hungry,’ but nevertheless took the crackers.

Viktor also ate his own crackers, but his crackers were forgotten in exchange for staring at the way Yuuri took apart his snack. Yuuri had no idea why Viktor was so fascinated. Didn’t a lot of people pull the crackers apart, lick off the peanut butter, and then eat the crackers?

It made little sense as to why Viktor had just paused, his own cracker half way to his mouth, to zone in on Yuuri. It was especially startling when Viktor surged forward to kiss Yuuri.

“Ah!” Yuuri caught the kiss, but the momentum sent him falling back towards the blanket. Viktor’s weight carried their tumble forward. Yuuri found himself on his back, half eaten cracker on his chest, Viktor half on his lap.

“I am… both sorry and not sorry I did that.” Viktor said, making no move to get up from his position. The two stared at the cracker, the real culprit.

“S’fine.” Yuuri mumbled. “Just surprised me.”

“Funny. You keep surprising me.” Viktor smiled. “It’s like every time I try to do something to surprise you, you end up throwing me off more.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, no, don’t apologize. I love it.” Viktor started to shimmy his way up, so that he was hovered all the way over Yuuri. To allow easier movement, Yuuri shifted as well. The cracker fell off his chest, onto the blanket, forgotten. All Yuuri could focus on was Viktor’s brilliant blue eyes above him. “Every day with you is something new.”

The two met each other with a kiss that was as natural as breathing. Right from the start, Yuuri could tell that this kiss was different from all the others. Viktor’s lips moved against Yuuri’s in a pleasurable rhythm of press and pull. Yuuri was both eager and inexperienced, happy that Viktor didn’t seem to mind leading the kiss.

Yuuri lifted his arms to hold onto Viktor’s back. Viktor reciprocated by brushing his right hand through Yuuri’s hair. They closed the gap between them by Viktor lowering himself so that his chest was against Yuuri’s. Knowing no one was around to see this, that it was just the two of them, Yuuri could barely contain the surging feeling of comfort and security. His hands slipped up to rest on the back of Viktor’s head.

Viktor’s tongue tasted Yuuri’s bottom lip the same moment that Viktor slipped his left hand underneath Yuuri’s shirt. The sudden feeling of cold skin against a ticklish side of his stomach made Yuuri jolt with a squeak. Viktor had to balk back to avoid Yuuri’s head hitting into his.

Viktor stared down at Yuuri wide-eyed. “You alright?”

“Yeah, that just tickled. And your hand is freezing!”

Viktor didn’t move his hand. A mischievous glint sparked in his eye. Yuuri’s body twitched, horribly frustrated with how that look excited him.

“Can I warm my hand against you?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri nodded his head far too fast to be considered rational. The two shifted yet again so that Viktor could roam over Yuuri’s stomach and lower chest without accidentally tickling Yuuri again.

Their lips met to kiss again, but this time the intimacy building up much quicker to Viktor licking apart Yuuri’s lips. It felt so good, no nice, that a small part of Yuuri couldn’t help but to be conscious of just how much more experienced Viktor was than Yuuri. The two never spoke in detail about Viktor’s sex life, but Yuuri had an idea that Viktor had done this exact thing a countless number of times with a countless number of other boys.

Jealousy and thrill collided in Yuuri’s chest. Jealousy at the thought that his were not the only lips Viktor had kissed – but thrill that he was now the only one Viktor was kissing now. An even smaller part of Yuuri tried to worry if this was real or not, if Viktor was serious about Yuuri. But in the warmth of Viktor’s arms, under the touch of Viktor’s hand – which had met perfect equilibrium with Yuuri’s skin – Yuuri couldn’t be bothered to entertain these worries.

Viktor’s French kiss was slow, sweet, and maddening. He didn’t claim Yuuri’s entire mouth with own, but more so pressed enough in that Yuuri felt like he was drowning in affection, while gracing up enough that Yuuri kept chasing for more. Fire, an electric, magnetic, _good_ fire, now followed the path of Viktor’s hand. If this was physical intimacy at its core, then Yuuri was already addicted.

(What would it feel like if they were completely skin to skin? Nothing between them?)

A moan, unbidden, burned up from the base of Yuuri’s throat.

Viktor responded in kind with his moan. But then he froze. The hand disappeared from Yuuri’s stomach. One… two… three seconds passed, with the two just a centimeter from each other’s lips. Just when Yuuri was about to push up to close the distance, Viktor shot back.

“V-Viktor?” Yuuri stammered, his arms suddenly empty and body shot with the cold of the wind. What had he done wrong? Was his kissing that bad?

“It’s… please, don’t mind me.” Viktor turned his burning red face away. Yuuri nearly reached out when he saw Viktor shift his legs and jacket over his lap in a telling way. Understanding washed over Yuuri. But relief didn’t yet follow, because Viktor wouldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry, Yuuri. But if we had continued… I don’t think I would have been able to stop myself. I didn’t want to force myself on you like that.”

Yuuri blinked. “Oh.”

He wanted Viktor to look back at him. See that Yuuri wasn’t mad or offended. Viktor still wouldn’t turn back.

“Um. It’s alright. I kind of want it.” Yuuri had to vocalize. He wanted Viktor to know this. To understand that Yuuri meant it.

Viktor side eyed him, his brows dipped. “You don’t even know what _it_ is.”

The mood was quickly forgotten.

Wind whipped around them. Yuuri’s jaw dropped, as he hugged tight against himself, bracing off the unwelcome chill. Was Viktor assuming that Yuuri didn’t know what sex was? What the hell?! “I’m not a child.” Yuuri snapped. “Even if I’m a virgin, I know full well – ”

Viktor groaned, dropping his face into his hand. “No, you don’t. Yuuri, you have no idea what _it_ means to me.”

“Then tell me. Tell me so I can decide if I really do want it or not.”

They sat like that, Viktor hiding his face, and irritation replacing the excitement in Yuuri’s chest. He thrummed with it, just daring Viktor to hide this one thing too. Just like Viktor always hid things from Yuuri. Viktor seemed to sense this irritation, because he hesitated. He picked his head up, looked at Yuuri, opened his mouth once, and then closed it again. Thousands of words touched Viktor’s tongue, just to be swallowed back. Yuuri stared at him, long and hard.

Finally, Viktor glanced away again.

“I can’t.” 

“Argh!” Yuuri stood up. “I’m going to… I’m going to walk around some.”

“Okay.” Viktor said, quietly.

Yuuri left Viktor like that, still situating his jacket over what was now likely a softening hard-on. At first, Yuuri was more than ready to stomp off, maybe even take the trail back to the registration center. Call a taxi, go home, and put all of this behind him.

But it felt so wrong to argue with Viktor like this, especially on a day that they had spent so long taking the time to set aside and plan. Well, not like Yuuri did any of the planning. Viktor had orchestrated all of this for the two of them.

Yuuri’s seething strained itself out into wobbly, tearful hiccups. He didn’t want to end the day on such a bad note. He walked along the lake, doing breathing exercises to calm down, trying to chase off the hiccups. In the end, the release of emotions, where no one could see him, was exactly what Yuuri needed. When Yuuri returned to Viktor, he didn’t feel as frustrated.

Viktor was waiting for him underneath the tree, pacing. It looked as if he had already cleaned up the blanket. The moment he saw Yuuri, he ran out to meet him. The two hesitated, not sure if they were okay with touching each other.

“Yuuri, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.”

“Thank you.” Yuuri replied, his voice soft. “I can’t say I get it though. We’ve been friends for so long… and yet it feels like you’re always trying to keep me at a distance.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for that too. I just… and I know this will sound like a shitty excuse, but with the family business…”

“Okay. Yeah. I know.” Yuuri put a hand up. “Your dad’s keeping you busy all the time.”

Viktor’s expression was pained. It was obvious that there so many things Viktor wanted, _needed_ , to say to Yuuri, but just couldn’t get out. Yuuri was already so emotionally thrown that he didn’t feel like waiting around on their special day for Viktor to finally be honest with him.

“Come on,” Yuuri said, taking Viktor’s hand. “Let’s walk around some more.”

They did as such, quietly. There were things that could have been said. Yet when the two finally spoke again, the conversation followed other, lighter topics. The two ate their packed dinner in relative peace, and were even laughing again by the time the day concluded and they climbed back into Viktor’s car.

On the way to dropping Yuuri off, the natural scenery caught Yuuri’s attention, rolling past the window. The day had been good, overall. Great, even. It didn’t erase that nagging frustration, deep in Yuuri’s head, over all the distance and secret keeping. Seems that as time passed, that frustration only grew.

Viktor passed more and more cars as they got closer to inner city traffic, finally slowing down entirely in the afternoon rush hour.

Staring out the window, something occurred to Yuuri. A sick, twisted feeling of guilt gurgled up in his chest. He had gone off on Viktor for keeping secrets, when Yuuri had been keeping a secret too. Yuuri felt like a hypocrite. A selfish hypocrite.

Did Viktor know that his moms had been training Yuuri for years now?

Yuuri had a feeling that Viktor didn’t know. In all their years of trading electronic messages, Yuuri never thought of a way to casually drop the information in a conversation. After not saying anything after so long, it felt awkward and tardy to say something now.

How would knowing that now change Viktor’s perception of Yuuri? Would Viktor stop being so patronizing? Would he stop keeping as many secrets?

Or would Viktor feel betrayed? Betrayed that an outsider of the Nikiforov family learned such a confidential fighting style, seemingly for no other reason than self-image. That was all Yuuri was learning to fight for, after all. Just to feel better about himself. It wasn’t like he was working himself to death, like Viktor was, for the sake of continuing the family legacy.

Yuuri, for lack of better words, felt like shit.

If it were for the sake of family, then Viktor had every right to keep secrets. Yuuri had no excuse.

The car rolled up in front of Yu-Topia before Yuuri noticed.

“Yuuri?” Viktor asked, the tense mood having returned because of Yuuri’s quiet worrying.

Yuuri shook off his dark emotions. He offered Viktor as genuine of a smile he could muster.

“I had a great time, really.” Yuuri said. He leaned forward and kissed Viktor. It was a ‘let’s do this again’ and a desperate apology all wrapped into one kiss. Yuuri hoped that Viktor understood. With the way Viktor chased after Yuuri’s lips, he probably did.

Yuuri got back in his room, feeling emotions he couldn’t sort or describe. He stared at the white lilies, still sitting in his windowsill. He had been meticulously caring for and feeding the cut stems nutrition, allowing the flowers to miraculously survive past their expected expiration date. The petals sparkled in the sunlight from the sugar that Yuuri would occasionally add to the water. 

Yuuri collapsed onto his bed, which sat under the window. He stared at those flowers, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

-/-/-

Following their special, also unforgettable date, Viktor wasn’t able to see Yuuri for a long time. Truthfully, it was only two weeks before the two were able to meet in person again, but after Yuuri had realized just how much his soul revolved around Viktor’s, it was near impossible to be apart.

Yuuri could tell that Viktor felt the same way. They texted each other every day. Every morning, when Viktor inevitably awoke hours before Yuuri, he sent a good morning message.

Their third date was dinner and a movie. Even though Viktor kept joking that he would, he didn’t rent out an entire restaurant. Besides, Yuuri felt much more comfortable eating at Olive Garden than he would have if Viktor had chosen a place better suited to his high-end lifestyle. The night was casual, easy, just as Yuuri liked. Viktor said he liked going out someplace where he wasn’t recognized by name.

The fourth date wasn’t until a month after the third. It had kept getting delayed, as Roman kept demanding Viktor’s attention on this issue in the business, or that change that needed an extra hand to implement. Viktor apologized repeatedly each time. Yuuri tried to be patient and understanding.

To keep his mind off it – which was an endeavor like that of climbing Mt. Everest – Yuuri threw himself more into his dancing and his training. It wasn’t possible to worry over Viktor’s integrity when he had to defend himself from Nina stabbing him the face. He couldn’t over-analyze every word spoken between him and Viktor when Minako was calling out strict instruction. And the occasional bits of heartfelt praise he received from the women he learned under were almost enough to reassure him that he wasn’t entirely childish or selfish.

On the fourth date, Viktor gave Yuuri another bouquet of white lilies. When the other bouquet had started to reach the end, Yuuri had cut off the flowers to press them in books. He was starting a nice collection of these flowers, and had lately been looking up potential crafts to use them with.

Spring came and gone, leaving Yuuri to wonder if Viktor being home was any different at all to when he was at school or abroad. They still spoke every day, even if all Viktor could do was send a text or two, just to tell Yuuri that he was thinking about him. It was nice. It just wasn’t enough.

Actually, no, it was worse. Knowing Viktor was so much closer, but not close enough to reach, tore at Yuuri like nothing else in his life ever had. Knowing how much it affected him only made it harder. Agonizing over a boy made Yuuri feel irrational, petty, immature. Why was this something he caught himself crying over at night? Why couldn’t he get rid of this longing in his chest?   

Yuuri wanted more. He and Viktor still hadn’t made it past French kissing, and besides all the dates, they hadn’t done or said anything that indicated an irreplaceable commitment. They hadn’t yet said ‘I love you,’ which Yuuri partially didn’t think important, because he and Viktor were the types to express their hearts with action. Still, Yuuri ached for something, anything, that would prove that he was Viktor’s love and Viktor was his.

When the two managed to plan for a fifth date, early in June, Yuuri planned to express all this to Viktor. Even if Viktor was busy, even if his work required secrets or distance, Yuuri still wanted to try.

His mother called for Yuuri when Viktor arrived to pick Yuuri up, as usual.

“Yuuri, your boyfriend is here to pick you up!”

“Mom…” Yuuri complained, checking to make sure none of the particularly problematic customers had heard her. Not that it would make much difference, actually. Thanks to Janette, half the city knew that Viktor and Yuuri were seeing each other.

Yuuri got to the waiting area, where his mother stood at the reception desk, and Viktor stood, handsome and well dressed as always, in the doorway.

Viktor chuckled at Hiroko’s comment. “Yes, don’t get the wrong idea. Yuuri and I aren’t boyfriends.”

Yuuri froze midstep. It felt like he had just slammed into a glacier.

“What… what do you mean by that?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

(Maybe this wasn’t what Yuuri thought it was. Maybe Viktor had been wanting the same thing Yuuri wanted lately. Maybe Viktor preferred the term ‘lovers.’)

Don’t panic, Yuuri commanded to himself. Don’t panic.

The question caught Viktor off guard. He tilted his head, slipping his hands into his slack pockets. “Just that the two of us aren’t in a relationship.”

“We’re dating though.” Yuuri forced out. Okay, maybe the two had never said anything to officially declare that they were in a relationship. No labels, no facebook status, nothing of the sort. Viktor was right, in a way. Yuuri just didn’t want him to be. Today was the day he was planning on declaring something! 

“Yes…” Viktor answered, slowly, and it was the patronizing way he enunciated himself that just drove a stake through Yuuri. “We have been going on dates. That does not imply any commitment.”

Yuuri swallowed. Anger, shock, and despair were fighting for control inside him.

“I apologize if I ever gave you the impression that we were committed.” Viktor then said, as if it made anything better. It didn’t. Anger was starting to win over Yuuri in that moment. Oblivious to the way Yuuri’s hands were clenching into fists, Viktor kept talking. He even had the gall to look regretful about the whole thing. “It’s just that… I don’t do relationships.”

“Says the guy who was never single throughout his time in school.” The words escaped Yuuri's mouth before he could stop himself.

Viktor’s hands fell from his pockets, his posture now agitated as he rolled his shoulders. But ever the gentleman, the smile never fell from his bastard lips. “That’s not fair. I was a child. Things are different now, Yuuri.”

Dark, barely controlled anger swirled around in Yuuri. It was a shame that Viktor didn’t know how skilled of a fighter Yuuri was. He might have chosen his words better. Yuuri forced himself to stay calm, but he could feel angry tears pricking at his eyes. “Okay. I see. You had enough time to play around with my feelings, but not enough time to just tell me that I’m yours.”

Viktor’s fake ass smile fell, the mask shattering on the ground.

“Yuuri, wait, I – ” But Yuuri had already turned on his heel and left, straight for the stairs. He could hear Viktor calling out for him, and a shaken ‘I think it’s best you leave’ from Hiroko.

Once Yuuri was in his room, the adrenaline-fueled anger disappeared, replaced by the shock and despair. He collapsed on his bed. He curled into a ball, not knowing how else to react.

They had never had such a sharp disagreement before. Even during that one argument by the lake, neither had said anything that hurt the other irredeemably. This time though… Viktor had never spoken to Yuuri in that way before. Smiling and enunciating each word as if Yuuri was a child. No, somehow less than that. As if Yuuri had made some horrible assumption and needed to be corrected.

And now… now Yuuri wasn’t sure if he could ever face Viktor again. He was equally embarrassed and upset. Everything he thought he knew about his best friend toppled away when the rug came out from under him. Why had he excused Viktor’s patronizing, secret-keeping behavior as rational and okay so many times? Why did Yuuri spend so long beating himself up for not telling Viktor that he was training with Lyuba, Nina, and Mei? When Yuuri thought about it, he was mad at himself for not seeing all of this coming a mile away.

Viktor was rich. Viktor was rich beyond Yuuri’s wildest dreams. That meant that Viktor got whatever he wanted, whomever he wanted, whenever or however he wanted it. Now he wanted use Yuuri as an arm piece, but with no strings attached. That was all Viktor was after; flaunt the handsome danseur who had attended his party.

No, not anymore.

Yuuri looked up at the windowsill, where Viktor’s latest gift of lilies was just starting to wilt. Yuuri threw them in the trash.

-/-/-

An hour later, Viktor tried to call. Yuuri let it go to voicemail. When Viktor called another two times, Yuuri turned his phone off. The next day, when Viktor tried to show up at Yu-Topia, Mari reportedly chased him off, yelling some very unladylike things. Yuuri had no idea what she had said exactly. He was holed up in his room, using homework as an excuse to not come out.

The morning following that instance, Yuuri’s anger had already started to drain away. He was never good at holding a grudge. He woke up to cloudy skies, no good morning message on his phone, and anticipating a busy schedule. It was easily one of the most sluggish days of his life. 

And then the next day was even worse than that. As followed by the day after that.

Yuuri hated the fact that his every waking and sleeping thought found its way back to Viktor. He hated waking up from pleasant dreams, age-old feelings of Viktor touching him, holding him, just to remember the actual circumstances of his life. He hated how close they had become, just to be cut off so suddenly. Yuuri was going cold turkey, and it hurt so fucking bad.

They could have been everything. If it weren't for the secrets, it could have been perfect. Yuuri had to cling to his anger to keep from thinking this way. 

He told himself that he'd never speak to Viktor again. Even if day after day became a robotic routine, of which he found less to anticipate, Yuuri knew that absence hurt less than even the thought of being lied to, of treated like something to be used. 

He went on like this for a long week,

two weeks,

a month,

two months…

“Yuuri, focus!”

Yuuri crashed to the floor, thrown back by the impact of Nina’s kick to his chest.

He had been sparring with her in Tae Kwon Do format, and had started to overestimate himself. Yuuri’s kicks had always been a little stronger than Nina’s. Sometimes Yuuri could afford to fight on second nature alone, without much thought. Other times, losing track of the fight meant he got caught up in some other thought.

When he got back up, rubbing at his sore chest, Nina was glaring at him with her arms crossed.

“If you’re not going to give me a good fight, I don’t know why I should waste my time.” She snapped. When Nina got impatient, Yuuri could really see the resemblance between her and Yuri.

“Sorry,” Yuuri winced. “I was – ”

“Thinking about Vitya. Yeah, we know.” Nina rolled her eyes. “That’s all he does lately too.”

Yuuri looked away. He didn’t want to talk about Viktor. He didn’t want to hear about Viktor moping about, or whatever temper tantrums he must have thrown.

“I’ll do better this time.” Yuuri got back into stance. Nina didn’t.

“No, you’re far too distracted.” Lyuba said. “We’ve done what we can to work with you these past two months, but at this point, I think it’s helpless.”

“Wait,”

“We’ll call for you again when you’ve gotten past this. If you can get past this.”

“No, please, let me try one more time.” Yuuri pleaded. He dropped to his knees in front of Lyuba. “Please.”

She stared down at him. He bowed his head. She took her sweet time considering Yuuri’s plea, even though Yuuri knew her well enough now to know that Lyuba always made her mind up quickly and stuck through until the end. She was testing Yuuri now by making him wait.

Lyuba turned away.

“There’s nothing we can do for you tonight.” She said. “But we will call for you again. If you can’t prove to us that you’re still worth teaching, then you can expect not to ever hear from us again. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Go home then. Get some rest.”

Yuuri did as instructed.

-/-/-

Yuuri received his directive two days later. He studied the anonymous text message, wondering if it would be the last he’d ever receive. No. He had to prove himself. Just because his life had gone such in an unfamiliar direction, didn’t mean that he had to drive off the road completely.

Above all, dancing and fighting were his life. Just as Mama Lyuba once said, dancing was her first love. It was Yuuri’s too.

The address seemed familiar. Corvid Heights. He knew he had trained there before. Once he arrived at the parking lot, he recognized the place immediately. It was that grand ballroom.

This must be part of the test, Yuuri thought. Of course, the mothers would purposely choose a location that would bring up memories that Yuuri was now trying to keep repressed. The place made him think of Viktor, of the dance he had with Viktor at the New Year’s party, of how perfect it all was – no. Yuuri was here to fight. He was here to prove himself a worthy student to three deadly women.

There was a van in the parking lot. It didn’t miss Yuuri’s notice, but he considered disregarding it as important. The parking lot to this place was so big that it was used by neighboring shops and such. He still memorized the license plate – just in case. 

Yuuri walked inside the building, and immediately discovered that he was not alone. There was a white haired man in a black suit, standing at the reception desk. Yuuri had never seen this man before. The man did not look up from whatever he was doing at the desk or acknowledge Yuuri’s entrance in any way.

Yuuri checked his phone. It was nine. A late practice – definitely past the 8pm curfew. If this man was here, then he most likely wasn’t a civilian. What the hell did an old man have to do with anything? Yuuri’s guard was up, so he heard someone approach him from behind.

When the assailant tried to tackle Yuuri, he was able to flip them over. Yuuri grunted with the exertion, the assailant being much bulkier than him. They landed with a thud in front of Yuuri, a cloth grasped in their hand. Was that… chloroform? What the hell?

The man at the reception desk didn’t bat an eye to the burgeoning violence.

Expecting more attackers, Yuuri looked about himself. It was over half a year ago since he was last here, and he tried to recreate the lobby in his memory, in order to see if anything was amiss. It seemed darker inside than he remembered. He turned to see that the curtains to the front windows were drawn shut.

Yuuri eased over to the curtains, prepared himself, and then threw them open. No one was there.

Someone jammed into Yuuri’s back, grabbing him low by the midsection. Judging by their arms, this was a second assailant. Yuuri dropped low before swinging out to push them off of him. Once he was upright, he kicked them back further, his foot connecting with their chest.

The first attacker, the one with the potential rag of chloroform, were on their feet now. Side by side, Yuuri got a better look at them. Both were dressed in all black, wearing hoods faced with dark mesh. He couldn’t see their faces. Yet Yuuri knew well the regulars who the mothers hired to spar with. Neither of these two assailants matched body types with anyone Yuuri knew.

The one with the rag had hulking arms. Yuuri knew that if that attacker landed a punch on him, then it would be all over. The second attacker was much more lithe in frame.

The two didn’t give Yuuri much time to observe them before they were at him again. The beefy one engaged head on, while the lithe one took to Yuuri’s side and back, trying to catch him each time he danced out of the way of the first attacker’s blows.

Yuuri had no idea if there was anyone else waiting for him, but he knew he had to conserve his energy nonetheless. He slipped into a Tai Chi inspired style of fighting, doing his best to keep his own attacks limited and in time with his assailants’ offenses. Doing it right, he was able to play with his attackers. He moved in close to the bigger opponent, while still aware on how the smaller opponent moved about him.

When the bigger opponent struck, Yuuri slipped out of the way and pushed their momentum towards the smaller attacker. It meant that the smaller attacker had to use more energy not only to avoid their partner’s clumsy attacks, but engage in the fight with Yuuri again.

This person was also smart, though. Yuuri was able to catch the bigger opponent off balance, jab them in the stomach and swipe the rag out of their hand while they fell back. Before he could knock them off again, the second attacker hit him low, throwing him off balance. They hit him again and hell fell to the ground. He was just barely able to roll away when the first attacker went in for a body slam.

But he had the rag. He still had no idea what purpose the rag was for, but there was only one way to find out. Using a sudden burst of energy, Yuuri flipped himself back up, diverted the second attacker’s attention to one side, and then grabbed onto their other side. The hood was attached to their suit via Velcro, so Yuuri had to muster up strength to immobilize them long enough to throw the hood off.

He still didn’t recognize them, and pressed the cloth to their face.

They threw him off after thirty seconds. Not unconscious, but definitely not steady. Well, that was only a partially successful experiment. Still, if the attacker’s responses were depressed, then Yuuri had to take advantage of that quickly. He struck up to knock them unconscious.

Now to face the big one. Figuring the rag was useless, Yuuri threw it to the side.

The first attacker jumped in, throwing a punch. Yuuri dodged it and kneed them in the stomach, while simultaneously grabbing onto their arm. With that grip he was able to throw them to the ground. The second rough landing must have taken a toll on them, because this first attacker didn’t get up right away.

Yuuri stood over them, feeling a moment of victory. He had forgotten about the man at the desk.

Well, right up until his side was shot with a sharp, sudden pain.

Right before everything swirled to black, Yuuri glanced down to see a blow dart in his side.

What… the… hell…

-/-/-

Ice cold water yanked Yuuri back into consciousness. He gasped, the lights and colors of his surroundings stabbing at his eyes and the freezing cold of the water shocking his skin. Everything spun around him. He felt like he was going to throw up.

The first thing that he noticed was that he was tied down. The second thing he noticed, when things were just too blurry, was that his glasses were gone. He thought over the recent fight, wondering if his glasses had been thrown off then.

“Finally, you’re awake.”

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus away from the aching spin in his head. He opened them again to see someone standing before him. This man didn’t look like any of the others from the lobby. He wore street clothes, and a bandana mask over his mouth.

They were in the grand ballroom now. Yuuri was strapped to a chair via zip ties. Two ties held his legs to the front legs of the chair, while a third tie kept his hands locked together, stretched uncomfortably around the back of the chair.

There was also a third person there – a woman wearing an outfit similar to that of those from the lobby. However, most of Yuuri’s attention was on the man and the switchblade he held.

“Look, I’m running out of time here, so you’re gonna answer my questions.” The man held the knife up near Yuuri’s face.

Okay, okay. Yuuri reminded himself to breathe. Don’t panic. This could still be a training exercise. Maybe. Hopefully. Then again, the mothers had never set up anything this elaborate before.

“The schedules!” The man then snapped, as if he had already gone a few rounds of interrogation with Yuuri. “Tell us the training schedules! When are Roman’s little harem out of the house!?”

The man pressed the knife to Yuuri’s cheek. There wasn’t much leeway to edge away from it. He could feel the sting of the blade pressing into his skin. Thank god it was a shallow cut.

“I’m not allowed to have that information.” Yuuri said back. He stared as steady as he could at the man, and tried to hide the fact that his heart was going a mile a minute, and that the nausea had returned. Was this real? Was this supposed to simulate something real?

“Bullshit! I have word that you do know. When you were planning your little dates with that Nikiforov brat, you were given information about the training schedule.”

“I don’t know anything now.” Yuuri maintained. The man growled, and then punched Yuuri in the face. 

Holy shit, Yuuri’s mind was racing now. Were there people who were this desperate for this information? Desperate enough to torture some random kid? Were the mothers trying to tell Yuuri something with all of this?

Yuuri noticed that while his hands were tied together, his arms weren’t tied to the chair. He had an idea then. A risky ideal. Potentially fatal, if this wasn’t a setup. But he had to try something.

There was a sound from the lobby. A crash, and then a chorus of shouts. Yuuri used the man’s slight distraction to his advantage.

“Even if I did know anything, I wouldn’t tell you!” Then Yuuri spit as hard as he could into the man’s face. It had the desired effect. The man cursed and backed up, to wipe the spit off his face. Yuuri used that moment to pull his arms up and over the back of the chair. It hurt like hell to stretch his body nearly past its limits, but it got him enough room to be able to snap the zip tie off.

The woman noticed Yuuri get his arms free before he noticed her movement. Suddenly he was down on the ground again, by the force of her strike. His legs were out awkwardly, still attached to the chair. He tasted blood in his mouth. But after a quick run over with his tongue, he found to his relief that no teeth were damaged.

Now pissed – which meant irrational and unbalanced – the male assaulter rounded on Yuuri, aiming sharp kicks at Yuuri’s stomach, just to keep Yuuri down. Yuuri caught the man’s leg on the third kick, grunted, and pulled as hard as he could. The man toppled over. Yuuri didn’t let go of the man’s leg, pulled him forward, and jabbed at his wrist to make him let go of the knife.

The moment the woman was attacking Yuuri again, he had managed to get one leg free from the chair. This fighter, Yuuri could tell, was much smarter than the others. Even though Yuuri’s defense was clumsy, he had an advantage for having a knife and access to the woman’s legs. She stayed grounded, making sure that she blocked each thrust of the knife before attacking.

Even more so, when there was a crash at the door to the ballroom, the woman didn’t even flinch.

Yuuri had to take another risk, or risk getting stomped down by this new opponent. Ceasing his defenses and offenses, Yuuri curled in on himself, keeping the knife close. He had to withstand a torrent of blows just to cut his other leg free. Once out of the chair, he rolled away so that he could get up.

His entire body screamed in pain, his face and side still stinging from the knife and blow dart respectively, and he could just feel bruises forming on his face and midsection. Still, he was alive, and that was the prerogative. That, and if this was real, no one had information they shouldn’t have.

Now focusing on the woman, Yuuri realized that he recognized her stature. This was someone he had fought against before. He got back into fighting stance the moment the doors flew open.

Rushing in came Viktor, aiming a pistol, flanked by Mei and Nina.

“Yuuri!” Viktor cried out. But Yuuri could only afford Viktor a glance. If Mei and Nina were with him, then that meant…

“Mama Lyuba?” Yuuri asked, recognizing the masked woman before him.

Confirming his suspicion, she pulled off the hood. Lyuba smiled at Yuuri.

“Very good.” She pulled the hood off all the way and tossed it to the side, before also getting back into a fighting stance. “Now, you fight me.”

“Yuuri, no!” Viktor tried to run forward, but Mei blocked him. He thrashed against her, calling out for Yuuri.

Did Viktor think that Yuuri was kidnapped for real? Also, what was he doing with a gun? Actually, never mind. Now that it was confirmed that this was all a setup, understanding dawned on Yuuri. This was a test, just as Mama Lyuba said it would be. But even more than that, it was a chance for Yuuri to show off what he was capable of to Viktor.

Yuuri was so ready for this. When Lyuba swung her leg out, fast, aimed, to kick Yuuri, he blocked her.

Out of the three women, Yuuri’s fighting style matched up closest to Lyuba’s. This was someone he couldn’t outmaneuver in agility or speed. They were also about equal in strength. The only thing Yuuri knew he had on Lyuba was stamina. This was a fight to outlast. Even more so difficult by the fact that Yuuri was already verging on exhaustion.

Yuuri did his best to use his smaller stature to an advantage, dancing out of the way of Lyuba’s attacks and keeping own attacks aimed at her lower midsection, where she had to move more to defend herself. He tried not to rely too much on the knife, knowing that Lyuba was skilled at disarming someone. To stay out of range of her grip, he focused on kicking out more than punching. She caught up on his MO quick enough, and started using his attacks against him, throwing him off so that he had to use up even more energy to right himself.

It had been a long time since Yuuri had sparred this seriously with Mama Lyuba. He loved it. She presented such a challenge against the skills that he prided himself most in, that he truly had to think two steps ahead. With each exchange of blows, Yuuri’s smile grew wider and wider.  

Best of all, Viktor was there. Viktor was watching. Adrenaline coursing through Yuuri, he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad over Viktor learning this secret. It was about time. Now Viktor wouldn’t ever say anything so patronizing, or try to keep Yuuri at a distance like he would a child, ever again.

Yuuri had to feint to keep up with Lyuba now. He went at her like he was going to kick her again, and when she readied for that attack, he rounded back and thrust the knife towards her neck.

To his absolute surprise, she lifted her arms in yield.

“Excellent.” She praised. “We can go over what you should improve on later, but for now, you have proved yourself. We will continue to train you.”

Yuuri’s smile, already wide from the exhilaration of the fight, spread so far that his cheeks hurt. He didn’t care.

They shook hands. Yuuri handed over the knife.

And then Viktor was right there at his side.

“Yuuri, you’re bleeding!” 

When Viktor tried to reach for the damage, Yuuri swatted his hand away. He felt his own face. There was a bit of blood, but nothing alarming. This wasn’t the first time Yuuri had gone through the ringer after sparring with his instructors. The first time that it had happened, when he was seventeen, he had stolen and learned how to use Mari’s concealer. After that, he had bought his own injury ointment, flesh toned bandages, and concealer.

Viktor sputtered out a string of noises, both at Yuuri and his mothers, before he managed to get out, “You’ve been training him!?”

Now that the fight had concluded, and the adrenaline was starting to fade back, all of Yuuri’s original feelings on the matter started to return. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Viktor’s eyes.

“Since I was fourteen.”

“Wha – why didn’t you tell me?”

Suddenly Yuuri was an awkward eight year old all over again. Only this time he had blood on his face, and his entire body ached. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

“I thought you’d be mad at me.”

Viktor made another shocked noise. “I – I’m not mad at you.”

Yuuri glanced up at him.

“I’m worried for you.” Viktor finished.

Yuuri’s brows furrowed. He glared up at Viktor. “Why? You saw what I can do.”

“I know.” Viktor ran his hand over his face and hair. “I know. And that was – fuck. I just…”

“Tell him the truth.” Lyuba’s voice cut in. The boys both looked at her.

“But Mama, he – ”

“Is trustworthy.” She finished for him. Mei and Nina nodded in agreement. “We have decided that he may learn the truth. We trust him.”

“Then why don’t you tell him?” Viktor demanded. 

“Because you’re the one who’s in love with him.” Lyuba answered, untouched by Viktor's panic or protest. 

A hush fell over the room. Never had Viktor’s feelings for Yuuri been put so plainly. And by someone who Yuuri rarely knew to bother with semantics.

Viktor loved him? Viktor was _in love_ with him?

“Viktor…” Yuuri ventured. “What are they talking about?”

Viktor took a deep breath. “Sit with me?”

Yuuri let Viktor lead him over to a banquet table. The two sat down facing each other. Viktor pressed and grasped at his own hands, sitting his lap. Yuuri's heart was still beating fast, but now it felt like it was jumping all around his chest and into his throat. There was strained quiet before he spoke.  

“Yuuri, I cannot even begin to express how sorry I am for putting you through what I put you through. It was wrong of me to lead you on, without any intent to commit. You were right. I did play with your feelings, and that was completely inexcusable of me.”

Yuuri didn’t say anything, wary of what else Viktor had to say. He had a feeling Viktor had practiced this speech over and over, just waiting for a chance to get it off his chest. Though, Yuuri let Viktor gather up his hands, and hold them between the two of them.

“I just… and I’m not going to say this to excuse my actions. Just to explain. It’s dangerous to be close to my family. We’re not as we present ourselves. My Papa doesn’t just run the shipyards, he also…” Viktor took another breath. “He also runs the biggest independent criminal organization on the West coast. The Nikiforov family controls this entire city, both above and underground. We oversee the trade of all illegal items, as well as any criminal activity within this city and its immediate suburbs. And… I’m to inherit this empire.”

Externally, Yuuri’s face was blank, as he still didn’t say anything. Internally, his thoughts and emotions were a whirlwind. Viktor had been trying to protect him? This entire time? This was what he had been hiding all along? A criminal empire? A _criminal empire_?? Viktor was being brought up to become a _crime lord_?

“I don’t know what I would do with myself if anything ever happened to you on account of me. Not just if one of my enemies tried to get to me through you, but if you ever fell into legal trouble for being an accomplice.”

Viktor checked Yuuri’s reaction, his own expression turning desperate. “Yuuri, please say something.”

Yuuri shook his head. He didn’t trust his own voice, fearing that he wouldn’t be able to control building freak out if he opened his mouth.

Honestly, he should have seen this coming all along. Looking back on it, the signs were obvious. The Nikiforov family was easily the wealthiest family of the city. They owned the shipyards – hello, import/export – and had ‘investments’ in half the businesses in town. Savvy people, like Minako, who had some access to upper class, were wary of the Nikiforov’s power. As they rightfully should. And then, on Viktor’s part, all that secret keeping and trying to live up to impossible expectations.

All this time Viktor was trying to protect Yuuri...

Viktor shifted and squeezed Yuuri’s hands. To show that he understood, Yuuri squeezed back. It seemed to offer Viktor some reassurance.

“Yuuri, I care for you. A lot. More than even those three words could say. But… if this is too much… if you don’t ever want to see me again, then just say the word. I’ll leave you and your family alone forev – ”

“No!” Yuuri shot forward in his chair.

Viktor jerked back in surprise, a bit of hope dancing in his eyes.

“No.” Yuuri said again, this time quieter, a small blush spreading over his face. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Okay.” Viktor said, a bit breathless, as if he couldn’t believe that Yuuri would choose to keep him around. “Okay. So… where do we go from here?”

Yuuri bit his lip. He would need a lot of time to think this over. Anger and anxiety still lingered. But at the same time, he felt like he was in far too deep to back out now. Might as well go full throttle forward.

“For one, no more secrets.” Yuuri decided.

Without hesitation, Viktor nodded. “Yes. That’s completely fair.”

“And…” Yuuri hesitated. There was one thing that Yuuri knew for certain, even after all that time he had tried to cut Viktor from his life. There was no way he could live without Viktor. It didn’t matter what the future held, or how apparently dangerous it was to be so close to Viktor. “And, we can try… try again.”

Viktor studied him. “You mean… as lovers?”

Yuuri hesitated. "Maybe as friends first. But then, yes. As lovers." He then sat up, firm. "Do or don't, this time. I'm either yours or not."

Viktor bounced up in his seat, bringing Yuuri's hands closer to himself. “If you would have me, yes. Yes, please, Yuuri, I want us to be lovers. If you want my heart, take it. I promise that it’s already yours.”

The words Yuuri had waited so long to hear threatened to sweep him away. His heart singed. But things had to be said. 

“I thought you didn’t do commitment now.” Yuuri hated to see Viktor wince at that, but he felt like things had to be clarified. Even though now, he felt like he already knew the answer.

“I know. I was wrong to say those things to you. I was trying to protect you, but…”

"You trust me now?" Yuuri said. "Trust me to take care of myself, and to keep your secret safe?"

“Yes,” Viktor squeezed their hands together again. "Yuuri, if it came to it, I'd trust you with my life. After all, I already trust you with my heart."

Finally, all the weight falling off his shoulders, Yuuri smiled a wobbly and wet smile.  

Maybe Yuuri was being reckless for forgiving Viktor so soon. Maybe he should have held off longer, made Viktor prove himself. But there was just no denying that Yuuri had been waiting for this. Waiting far too long to leave him capable of any rational thought.

If it weren't for the secrets, they'd be perfect. That's what Yuuri thought. Well, here it was. Viktor, sitting before him, throwing aside his walls. 

It felt so good. 

He and Viktor couldn’t stay like that forever, though. As it seemed to be becoming a pattern, Mama Lyuba interrupted them.

“Alright, Vitya. We have our own things to discuss with Yuuri. And he needs to take care of his wounds.”

“Of course,” Viktor said, and reluctantly stood. “I’ll… I’ll call you, alright?”

“I’ll be waiting.” Yuuri smiled.

-/-/- 

Once Viktor had left, along with the hired fighters, Lyuba, Nina, and Mei sat down with Yuuri to give him his performance review. Mei also presented a first aid kit, so that Yuuri could take care of himself while they provided feedback. Their review was best summarized as ‘you’re inventive and determined, which is good, but you’re still clumsy and hesitant to attack.’

The women had very much noticed that, even when presented with a potentially fatal situation, Yuuri didn’t fight with intent to kill. They decided that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but that if Yuuri was serious about sticking close with Viktor, then he needed to be prepared to do anything necessary to defend himself. 

Yuuri would continue to train under them, under the condition that he would be running through more, even deadlier, simulations like this. Above all, the mothers believed in Yuuri's ability to make Viktor happy, and for Viktor to make Yuuri happy, so they were willing to ensure that Yuuri could fight through anything to make it happen. Yuuri was beyond grateful of their support. He was also blown away that the mothers had orchestrated this entire thing, just to make sure Yuuri could continue associating with the Nikiforov family. 

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Yuuri asked, closing the first aid kit, now that he was done with it. The women nodded. “About this whole criminal empire thing… is that why you three have to be such good fighters? Since it’s so dangerous to be close to Roman?”

The women shifted a little.

“Our role in the Nikiforov family is a unique one,” Mei finally answered. “It’s a practice exclusive to this family. The tradition goes back centuries.”

“As you know,” Lyuba continued, “we are indeed his harem. But it’s important that we are skilled, as well as beautiful. The patriarchs of the Nikiforov family have always liked to flaunt their wealth and power by keeping a small group of elite fighters, like ourselves. We answer to him and only him. More than that, we are his submissives.”

Yuuri hesitated with this new knowledge. He could feel his face burning. “Submissives as in… a sexual context?”

Lyuba nodded. “What better way to demonstrate how powerful and feared you are by keeping a dangerous woman by your side and submitted to you in bed?”

“We wear these collars to symbolize our role.” Nina spoke up, gesturing to the bejeweled band around her neck, which Yuuri had never seen her go without. “Roman owns us. We are his pets.”

“You’re like slaves.” Yuuri said slowly, not sure if he was hearing all of this correctly. Collars? Pets? Why was everything starting to sound like a weird anime?

“In play, yes.” Lyuba said, with a twinkle in her eye. “Rest assured, all three of us not only agreed to this role, but we do not regret our decisions. We have our… reasons… for enjoying our position.”

The double entendre did not pass over Yuuri’s head.

“You’d be surprised,” Lyuba continued, leaning back in her chair, “How much power you can obtain just even kneeling at the feet of someone like Roman.”

She leveled Yuuri with a look that went straight through him. Yuuri shook his head, trying to absorb it all.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly stuttered, but caught himself, “Are you suggesting that I should become…”

“We are not trying to persuade you or dissuade you of anything.” Mei snapped, her hand coming down on the table. “The role we play is not some cheap tactic to get into a Nikiforov’s bed, and I would appreciate it if you did not treat it as such.”

Yuuri winced, visibly apologetic for even insinuating as such.

“But…” Lyuba cut in, her tone soft. “If we put an idea in your head, well… in any case, it would be preferable to us that Vitya’s first, and perhaps only, consort be someone he already trusts. As well as someone we trust.”

"Oh. Alright."

"Do you have anything else to ask us?"

Yuuri thought it over. There were a lot of things to think over. So much had just happened in the past hour. "I don't think so."

"Then you may be dismissed." 

At that, Yuuri stood. He bowed. "Thank you, again, for all you've done."

Lyuba nodded. Yuuri started to make his leave, but then Lyuba called out to him one more time. 

"Ah, Yuuri, just so you know..." she said, when he turned to look back at her. "If we did put an idea in your head, it's not a decision to take lightly. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Good. Well, good night, Yuuri. You'll be hearing from us again." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kids, this is a psa from your friendly neighborhood aro spec: romantic love is gross and stupid, and it should be avoided at all costs. Thank you. 
> 
>  
> 
> oooooohhhhhh my god this chapter was a bitch to write. well, at least the story is starting to go somewhere. is it starting to read like a mafia au yet? 
> 
>  
> 
> *aro spec - aromantic spectrum, because as much as I love writing this fic, if anyone pulled off the same romantic gestures for me as Viktor does for Yuuri, I'd probably punch them and run. Whoops.


	4. better intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooohhhhhhhhhh my god, I can't BELIEVE how long it took me to update this! If anyone ended up giving up waiting, I don't blame them. D: D: D:
> 
> I am indebted to my friends, who encouraged me to post this story, to all the people who kept leaving kudos, and to Zee2709, who left the sweetest message. It got me back on track to writing this story. Of course, I am super excited to share this update. I hope that I meet everyone's expectations, and maybe even surprise a few of you!

The first order of business, when Yuuri made it home from the climatic ‘practice’ session, was to fall face first onto his pillow. He promised himself that he’d consider everything that had just happened once he was able to stand without swaying.

Admittedly, during the last bit the mothers had told him, about not making any rash decisions regarding the… the… _submissive_ thing, Yuuri was already feeling himself fade out of existence. During the late ride home, the only thing he was able to concentrate on was not sleeping past his stop. Much less the should-be concerning thought that Mama Lyuba believed it would work for someone trustworthy – that someone being Yuuri, of all people – to be Viktor’s first… She had said consort. The role sounded like a sex slave. Nina had referred to themselves as pets.

A very should-be concerning thought indeed. Yet Yuuri couldn’t deny that it was with a relieved heart that he slipped into a relaxed, sated sleep, which he had greatly missed for those past two months.

Those past two months trying to live without Viktor.

If Yuuri dreamed during that first cycle of sleep, he didn’t remember it – dead as he was to the world. But sometime around six, he awoke to use the bathroom. Yuuri slumped over to the bathroom, and then back to his bed, with little awareness of what he was doing.

The second cycle of sleep, Yuuri was aware of his dreaming.

It was the age old dream of Viktor's arms around him. Yuuri had fretted over and – depending on the circumstances – enjoyed these dreams for years. In some dreams, Yuuri went about his normal dreamworld odyssey, just with Viktor by his side or holding his hand. Other dreams were a bit more mature in nature.

When those dreams had occurred during those infamous two months, they had only been a tease, a source of frustration. 

This morning, however, Yuuri knew better. So, when the second repetition of the alarm finally woke him, Yuuri didn’t want to chase away the blissful, warm comfort that had settled along his limbs. Stubbornly, selfishly, he held onto it.

Yuuri knew that he was going to miss the 9:35 bus that he usually took to work, but he didn’t bother rushing. For one, he told himself, he had to take his time putting on concealer over his more noticeable bumps and bruises. It was also a good idea to stretch out any kinks or soreness. More than that, Yuuri’s hair was partially sculpted upwards by his pillow. He had to sniff test his clothes, because being a depressed lump had been detrimental to his laundry habits, and then he went and spilt coffee on his jacket sleeve when he didn’t get the thermos lid on right.

Yet none of these clumsy things fazed him. When Yuuri jogged up to the bus-stop, to catch the 10:20 round, his attention was entirely on the string of messages on his phone.

The swirling, giddy, warm feeling was only encouraged by these messages. Technology was indeed a bad influence on Yuuri’s rationality.

_-From: Viktor_

_6:01am – Good morning! I hope you’re feeling a little better, now that you’ve had some rest._

_6:10am – It feels so good to text you again ^_ _♡^_

_6:10am – Of course, this is only if you’re okay with it. Let me know if I need to give you some space.-_

Yuuri had already called Celestino to let his manager know that he’d be late to work. The to-go coffee was also effectively waking up the rest of his sleepy brain. There wasn’t anything else to steal his attention for the ride over to the pet shop.

He stared at his phone, wondering how to respond. His initial reaction, the night before, was to immediately forgive Viktor of everything. Maybe it was the emptiness of missing Viktor, or the hurt of having been so close to making it official, or maybe Yuuri had struggled to stay angry because the idea of Viktor being an unfaithful playboy just didn’t fit. Even in Viktor’s school years, Yuuri had never known Viktor to deceive anyone. In fact, from what Yuuri did know, Viktor was a bit of a traditionalist when it came to courtship.

(Yuuri remembered Viktor talking about asking his first boyfriend’s father for permission to go on a date. What a romantic sap.)

At the same time, Viktor had said and done stupid things. But that could be talked over, right? If they were going to eventually try to be a couple, then they would have to come to an understanding about needs and boundaries anyways.

Because, truly, even after a night of sleep, Yuuri was ready to believe that Viktor cared for him and had, just as he said, only been trying to protect Yuuri all along.

From association with a criminal empire.

That was what should have halted Yuuri in his tracks right away. Even if he had been too oblivious before to add two and two together, he had always known Viktor guarded secrets. There had always been something otherworldly about the money and power the Nikiforov family possessed.

So much envied power, that the patriarch Nikiforov saw the need to demonstrate his power with femme fatale guards. Femme fatale guards who answered only to him, and submitted to him in more ways than one.

The images of the dream resurfaced in Yuuri’s mind. The feelings that accompanied them were still keeping all fear and dark thoughts away, even though it would have been useful to feel even a touch of apprehension. No, all Yuuri's mind and body could offer was bliss. Safety. Warmth. Right from the center, and flowing out.

The image played over and over. Viktor smiling above him. That perfect heart-shaped smile that Yuuri loved. No mask. No lies or secrets. Holding Yuuri down and close enough that all Yuuri knew was the bare, unclothed weight of his lover.

A man that Yuuri should fear. A lifestyle that should turn Yuuri, in all his lawfulness, away.

But it was Viktor. Yuuri would return to him time and time again. He wanted so desperately to belong, without walls or secrets, in the arms of the boy, the _man_ who had meant so much to Yuuri for so long.

Yes, Yuuri would have to tread carefully about all of this. Even though that was never a skill that Yuuri ever claimed to have. After just one bus ride of debate, he texted Viktor back, letting Viktor know when he’d be done with his shift that day.

‘You can call me then.’

A minute later, Yuuri received the reply: ‘I will!’

-/-/-

It was probably some sort of blessing that Phichit wasn’t on shift that day. Not that Yuuri had anything against working with his best friend. Yuuri was just certain that the topics swirling around his head had dyed his cheeks a nice pink, and he would have never escaped Phichit’s prying need for gossip. Even more fortunate, his coworkers Leo and Guang Hong were too caught up in their own worlds to notice Yuuri mentally sorting through multiple life changing revelations.

The two were making awkward advances at each other, by way of references to badly dubbed foreign films – of all things. This innocent, nerdy flirting had been going on for weeks, but Yuuri had been too distracted and bitter to appreciate any of it.

In one night, a light switch had been flipped on Yuuri’s entire outlook on life. And honestly? It was kind of ridiculous. It was not rational in slightest to take only 48 hours to go from glaring at to smiling over Leo and Guang’s budding feelings.

Either way, Yuuri’s embarrassment for himself aside, he knew that Phichit would kill him if he didn’t let Phichit know what he had missed that shift. Like the good friend he was, Yuuri sent off a couple texts. Within minutes, a tagging frenzy ensued on Instagram. Yuuri couldn’t help but to laugh as he scrolled through a series of not-so-subtle date suggestions, formatted as ‘scenery’ pics of around town.

Yuuri concluded his shift in a bright mood. Hiroko noticed when Yuuri made it home, and her relieved smile, to find her son fresh from his depressive slump, made Yuuri smile a little more. When some of the regulars waved at him, on his way towards the family staircase, he waved back.

He made his way up to the family living quarters, and then as if on cue, Viktor called him.

“Hello,” Yuuri answered, after the third buzz.

“Hello, Yuuri,” Viktor’s smile was audible. The happy sound of Yuuri’s name was such a welcome relief. “You sound like you’re in a good mood today.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri agreed. He fell back onto his family’s couch. “It was a good day.”

“I’m happy to hear it. Anything particularly interesting happen?”

Yuuri recounted the day’s events to Viktor, who laughed and made appropriate witty comments about the colorful people Yuuri hung out with. When Yuuri finished, Viktor joked, “Remind me to be careful with all forms of gossip around your friend.”

Yuuri snorted. “Oh, give Phichit some credit. He’s only dangerous when he has access to social media.”

“Mmhmm,” Viktor hummed in doubt. This wasn’t the first story he had been told about Phichit.

“Are my friends going to be a problem?” Yuuri shot back, both in humor and in slight worry. Sure, _Yuuri_ knew that Phichit could keep a secret – if he was explicitly sworn to it by an unbreakable vow – but the Nikiforovs had no reason to believe the same. What if having gossipers for friends would cause problems for Viktor and his family? Yuuri had no intention of telling Phichit anything about the true Nikiforov business. That didn’t mean that Phichit couldn’t figure it out on his own from the publicly available information. Just because Yuuri had been oblivious to the obvious, that didn’t mean that Phichit ‘best friend to the whole world’ Chulanont would function the same way.

“No, no,” Viktor said. “You can be friends with whoever you want. I trust you not to release any damning information.”

“Oh, really?” Yuuri nearly relaxed, warmed by Viktor’s faith in him. There was a nagging counterpoint hanging off the tip of his tongue. Viktor caught the pregnant pause.

“Are you not reassured?”

“Well… when I first found out about your moms, that Baranovskaya woman threatened to ‘do away with me.’ You know, in case I blabbered about what I saw to my friends.”

Viktor made a little exasperated groan. “Yeah, that sounds like Lilia.”

Now that Yuuri had trained under Lilia, he had to agree. He still had no idea how she felt about him. Not like Viktor’s mothers, who had been openly affectionate towards Yuuri enough times to convince even his anxieties that they actually favored him. It seemed like Lilia only tolerated Yuuri for being a family friend. He bit his lip, and then asked in a hush, “But was she serious? If I wasn’t your friend back then…”

“Don’t think like that.” Viktor cut him off. “You’re here now, right?”

Yeah. Thanks to fortunate connections, Yuuri didn’t end up a bystander casualty. Another statistic. One more quickly forgotten teenager, lost to the city. He shuddered, before doing his best to follow Viktor’s positivity. It wouldn’t help Yuuri sleep tonight if he kept rolling over the what if’s.

“… Tell me, honestly,” Viktor spoke up, after the two had lulled off into another quiet. “Are you okay?”

Humor bubbled up in a response before Yuuri could stop himself. “Is this regarding physically or emotionally?”

Viktor huffed despite himself. “Both, if you’re inclined to answer.”

Was Yuuri physically okay? That was an easy question to answer. The night before had been one of his worse run-ins for sparring. But Yuuri had been struck down and nicked with blades enough times to know how to work it all off. He’d make it.

“Physically, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Viktor wasn’t wholly convinced. “And, emotionally?”

Well, if Yuuri distracted himself from the growing anxiety in the back of his mind, about the many other things that could have gone wrong from his association with the Nikiforovs, then he could focus on the mood he had woke up to this morning.

“Better.” Yuuri decided on, being honest.

He heard Viktor inhale and exhale slowly. “Yuuri… are you free tonight?”

Yuuri blinked, sitting up in surprise. Viktor was free to meet up again? So soon?

“I am.” He said. “Did you want to meet up?”

He did his best to phrase the question as a simple curiosity, not an invitation. His chest fluttered.

“I understand if you don’t want to.” Viktor amended.

Yuuri did want to. That was the problem. But Yuuri had been telling himself all day that he had to be careful, to not rush back into this.

“What did you want to do?”

“Just… talk.” Viktor replied. “Be with you. Like it used to be.”

Yuuri let himself smile, leaning back down against the arm of the couch. That sounded good to him.

He knew he didn’t have training that night, because the mothers would have sent him a directive by now. That, and, Viktor would have never offered if he had reason to believe his mothers were going out to train tonight.

Yuuri was free. And talking was fine. Nothing too serious. See where this could go.

“Who’re you talking to?”

“Huh?” Yuuri startled, looking up to see Mari, halfway towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms. She was in her work uniform, so was most likely on her way to pick something up from her room. Probably some cigarettes for a smoke break. It was about that time.

But Mari stopped, her head tilted up in curiosity. She crossed her arms.

“I haven’t seen you smile like that since that rich fake-friend played you.”

Fret and guilt colored Yuuri’s cheeks. Ah, right. Shit. For the rest of the Katsuki family, Viktor was still on the ‘no good’ list. How was Yuuri supposed to explain that he and Viktor had made up, while not letting out the secret about the Nikiforovs? Obviously, Yuuri would have to lie. He had been getting better at lying, since his secret training had taken up a suspicious amount of his time. That didn’t mean he had learned how to be creative with his lies.

Mari grew suspicious over Yuuri’s lack of answer. She walked right up to him and grabbed the phone from his hand. The moment she saw Viktor’s name, her eyes widened.

Yuuri snatched the phone back, a bit too forcibly and quick for someone pretending that he wasn’t trained in top martial arts.

“Sorry, Viktor, something came up,” Yuuri said into the phone. “Let me know what time you were thinking.”

“Oh, okay.” Viktor startled. Yuuri hadn’t given a yes or no yet. “I will.”

Mari was looming over Yuuri now. He ended the call, quickly, and swiped it off.

“Time? Time for what?” She demanded.

Yuuri swallowed. “To go out with him tonight.”

Mari threw her hands up in the air. Yuuri watched nervously as she marched back to her room, came back with a cigarette, lit it, and then stared down at him. There was a no smoking rule in the house; it was for the sake of the customers who hated the smell.

“Okay.” She took a draw of the cigarette, rules be damned when little brothers are being confusing as hell. “What’s up? I know you, Yuuri. You’ve never obsessed over a guy like this before. Hell, I’ve never seen you obsess over anyone. I think Mom and Dad were expecting you to end up like me and put career above romance.”

Yuuri relented. “He, Viktor, explained things. He met up with me and said that… because of his family’s business, he was scared to commit, since he was… worried that his work would get in between us. And… tonight, he just wanted to talk things over.”

Mari flopped down onto the couch. She watched smoke drift towards the ceiling. “You know, Yuuri, men like that… they don’t change. I’m not saying that he won’t try to do better, but you might get hurt again.”

“I… I know.” Yuuri said. ‘But likely not by him.’ He thought. ‘And likely not emotionally.’

Mari fixed on Yuuri a sad, resigned stare. “I know he’s been your best friend forever, so I’m willing to give him a second chance if you are. But seriously. Be smart about this. Don’t do that thing you do where you make some crazy decision without thinking things through first.”

‘A little too late for that.’ Yuuri also thought, ruefully and doing his best not to visibly wince. He managed to nod. “Okay.”

Somewhat reassured, Mari took a long drag, and then leaned her head back to let the smoke wisp up effortlessly. The nicotine loosened her stiff muscles, and her body melted into the couch like a weight.

“Geez. First the thing with the blow dryer, now this. I’m gonna need another one of these.” Mari gestured to her cigarette.

“Blow dryer? Do I want to know?”

Mari let out a little groan. “Look, this middle-aged lady had bright red hair. I’m talking fire engine red. So, naturally, I thought her scalp was red from hair dye. Not because of a sunburn! How was I supposed to know that blow drying her hair would be like bringing the wrath of the sun onto her head a second time?”

“Aren’t you supposed to ask if their hair is dyed?” Yuuri asked.

Mari squinted at him. “Thank you, I had no idea.” She then turned her head back, to puff at the cigarette again. “I did ask. She said she got the gray highlighted out of her hair recently.”

“How? By spilling the hair dye bottle on her head?”

“Oh, shut up.” Mari elbowed Yuuri. “Oh well. Live and learn. Thank god Mom got there in time to cool down the situation.”

Blow dryer incident. Cool down. Yuuri bit his lip, resisting the opportunity. Mari side glanced him, silently questioning his constipation. Then understanding dawned on her.

“No, pun not intended.” She glared, while he snorted. “You’re hopeless.”

“And you should probably step outside before Mom or Dad catch you smoking in the house.” Yuuri said.

“Fine, fine,” Mari stood up, and headed towards the kitchen back door. That door led to the fire escape, which was her usual smoking spot. She paused before going outside and caught Yuuri before he retreated to his room. “Hey, remember. Be careful.”

“Alright.” Yuuri called back, as convincingly as he could. Sorry, Mari, but he had already made his decision. 

He had a message waiting for him. _‘Does nine work?’_

 _‘Yes.’_ Yuuri texted back, his fingers flying over the keys without a moment’s hesitation.

-/-/-

The two met at the Nook again. Viktor didn’t pick Yuuri up, by Yuuri’s request, because Yuuri didn’t want there to be a scene. Mari knowing that Yuuri and Viktor were trying to fix things was enough already. Yuuri didn’t want to worry his parents over anything trivial. Yuuko was far too excited by sudden changes, and Takeshi would find some way to tease Yuuri about it – playfully or not.

Yuuri managed to slip out and head over to the Nook without anyone asking him any complicated questions. He started to sweat as soon as he made it outside, but not just from the guilt of deceiving his family. It was a hot, stiff temperature that evening; the clouds were gathering for a midnight thunderstorm. Summer bugs competed with the sound of the city.

Yuuri’s forehead was dripping with sweat by the time he met up with Viktor. There was a sheen on Viktor’s forehead as well, which was oddly reassuring, that even a man as handsome as him could perspire like everyone else.

The two hadn’t planned very well, however, because the Nook was to close within an hour of the two arriving. Yuuri and Viktor settled on buying iced drinks and just braving the heat for a walk. It was a blessing that at least the sun was almost set. Each gust of wind from the cold front battling the warm front was happily received.

Viktor had thought to bring an umbrella. Even still, he tracked the time on his Rolex, making sure he didn’t keep Yuuri out for long. Yuuri didn’t care as much about that. He had the next day off.

At first, they walked in a couple circles around the shopping square. Then, needing something different, Yuuri led them towards his old school. It was an area that he knew well enough to get comfortably ‘lost.’

It was easy and strained to walk with Viktor after such a long absence. Yuuri was admittedly relieved that it was so hot because he was able to use clammy hands as a reason to not hold Viktor’s hand. It wasn’t like Yuuri shied away from the idea of touching Viktor… he just needed time. Viktor, without Yuuri having to explain himself, understood.

Yet even though there was over a foot of space between them – remarkable on narrow sidewalks – the conversation never wavered. The two reignited their age-old connection, talking until the ice in their drinks melted in a watery mixture.

They passed Yuuri’s former elementary school and high school, which were a street apart from each other. Viktor asked polite yet eager questions about the parts of Yuuri’s teen years that he had missed. It became obvious soon enough that Viktor was more so fascinated by Yuuri training under the harem than upset with it.

“Are you sure you’re not mad?” Yuuri still pressed, for likely the fifth time.

“No, not at all. Well, I am frustrated with myself. You keep surprising me, and I can’t think of a damned thing to outdo you yet.”

“I didn’t realize this was a contest.” Yuuri was caught between bafflement and a laugh.

“If it wasn’t before, it sure as hell is now.”

“Oh. Well, I should warn you: I’m incredibly competitive.”

Viktor looked over at Yuuri, his brow raised. His eyes danced so beautifully that Yuuri had to remind himself not to grab Viktor’s hand with his own clammy palm. “And I should tell you: I don’t lose.”

The retort Yuuri had planned fell away, all his attention on Viktor’s charisma and the little giddy bounces of his own heart.

“So, tell me,” Viktor said, not taking his eyes off Yuuri either. “How did you convince my mothers, Lilia especially, to train you?”

“Oh,” Yuuri’s face heated. “Well, I don’t think I did much of anything. Mama Lyuba went easy on me from the start. I guess being your friend comes with some privileges. ‘You wouldn’t suggest that I upset my precious son, would you?’ she said.”

Viktor laughed. “To be fair, I think Mama Lyuba knew that I had a bit of a crush on you.”

The words took a moment to sink in, as Yuuri had to do a bit of math in his head. This was when he and Viktor were teenagers. Back when Phichit started teasing Yuuri for tripping over a guy four-years older and leagues above him. Yuuri stopped in his tracks.

“Wait. You had a crush on me? _Me_?”

Viktor backtracked under the wrong assumption. “Oh, god, that must sound so creepy, with the age difference and all.”

“No, no, that’s not it,” Yuuri’s thoughts were going in loops. He thought back to his round, sputtering, awkwardly proportioned younger self. Viktor had liked him? Even back then? Viktor? Who had always been the ethereal one, with a boy on his arm anywhere he went? “I just… of all people, why _me_?”

Viktor stared at him. “Are you… not aware just how easily you draw people towards you?”

Just as Yuuri started to blush, Viktor tacked on, “Of course, you have a horrible habit of never picking up on when people are admiring you. Or, just, noticing other people in general. Honestly, for years, I thought I didn’t have a chance with you.”

The blush spread and darkened. Yuuri was grateful that it was now dark outside. The condensation off the side of his drink slipped down his hand, completely unnoticed. As if Yuuri wasn’t already overwhelmed, Viktor kept talking, now on a tangent about how apparently _Yuuri_ was the object of desire all along.

“It was like, I’d outright flirt with you, through calls and texts, and nothing seemed to work. I had no idea if you weren’t picking up on my intent, or if you weren’t interested. Or if I was creeping you out and you were just too polite to tell me off. I had _no_ clue. It wasn’t until that New Year’s party, when we danced, that I began to think that maybe, just _maybe_ you liked me back. Not that I had any idea how to handle such a thing. Well, you know that now. I screwed up royally in that department.”

This was unbelievable. Yuuri had no idea how to respond.

“See,” Viktor kept going. “I kept thinking, probably because I was being short-sighted and wrapped up in my own feelings – and, not going to lie, I’m used to people… throwing themselves at me – that I thought there was no way you liked me as much as I liked you.”

‘Understatement of the century,’ Yuuri’s mind supplied, amidst its regular panicked programming.

“It’s crazy isn’t it? After so many years apart, when we saw each other again, I felt like I had to learn all over again how to read you. I nearly forgot how expressive you are, in your own way; because, well, over the phone…” Viktor made a pointed gesture to express the frustration that was Yuuri’s inability to convey himself verbally. Yuuri could only agree with the sentiment. “Figuring out what you really thought of me… was like working through an artichoke.”

Of all things, Yuuri latched onto that last bit.

“Isn’t that a Pink Panther quote?”

Viktor stiffened when he realized what Yuuri was talking about. His nose went pink. “Oh. I thought I had heard that analogy somewhere.”

“You just compared me to an artichoke.” Yuuri crossed his arms, but he could feel the corners of his mouth threatening to upturn.

Viktor smiled apologetically. “Are you mad at me now?”

Yuuri’s grin broke free. He ducked his head to hide it. “No, I like it when you’re like this.”

“Like what?”

“Human.”

Viktor’s eyes sparkled, the blue competing with the stale light of the streetlamp above them. He took Yuuri’s wrist, drawing them in closer, even as Yuuri half-heartedly protested the heat. Their drinks continued to drip.

“Are you suggesting that I am usually inhuman?” Viktor asked, not quite managing annoyance, not even playful annoyance, with how the colors in his eyes danced and the pink of his nose spread.

“Yes. You and your family are too perfect, it’s unfair to the rest of us.” Yuuri deadpanned, and then softened his expression again. “No, what I am suggesting is that you try too hard to be the person everyone thinks you should be. I’ve told you before. I like it when you’re yourself. Corny quotes and all.”

Viktor’s eyes filled with reflective tears.

It was rather unfair, especially after Yuuri just said he appreciated Viktor’s human-ness, that Viktor’s tears were the prettiest Yuuri had ever seen. The tears that managed to peek past his eyes fell like quick diamonds. Viktor didn’t snot or sniffle like Yuuri did when he cried. Like when normal people cried. It was as if every ounce of Viktor’s heart spilled out in his tears, and nowhere else.

“I want so badly to be the person you deserve, Yuuri.” Viktor admitted, his voice wobbling so much that he could barely speak over a whisper. “Part of me thought that one day you’d find someone better than me, and then you’d live a much safer life.”

Yuuri scoffed at that. He reached up to brush back Viktor’s bangs, to see both eyes. “A much more boring life, you mean.”

Viktor managed a smile. He tilted his head against Yuuri’s fingers. “I believe, then, we are stuck with each other.”

“Yes. I like that.”

-/-/- 

Sentiments aside, there was only so long the two could comfortably stand so close, before their damp clothes and parched throats forced them to find some respite from the heat. There was a 7-Eleven just off the corner of the schools, so Yuuri led Viktor that way.

The 7-Eleven was a common place for kids to skip classes, or just meet outside of school. Even while Yuuri and Viktor were there, taking advantage of the AC and the Icee dispenser, there were some high school kids standing outside. They were trying to look cool with their cigarettes and combat boots, but Yuuri was astonished by one kid who wore a leather jacket. Whether this kid was incredibly punk or incredibly stupid – and asking for heat stroke – was left to be determined.

Only when the 60 degrees of AC and more cold drinks start to make the two shiver did Yuuri and Viktor go out to brave the heat. They turned the corner of the 7-Eleven, intending to head back in the direction of Yu-Topia. The rolling black of the sky was now starless, and the wind had picked up. As much as Yuuri hated the idea of cutting the evening off, now that it felt like he and Viktor were finding the place they had left off those two months ago, they had to beat the storm.

They turned the corner onto a marginally lit alley. Cutting through this alley meant a quicker way home, but Yuuri didn’t normally go this route at night. Half way through the alley, lounging on plastic red crates, were another group of youth. The smell of marijuana and cheap beer filled the narrow space. These boys were all white, with statures and skin of those with warm dinners waiting at home, yet they wore an assortment of baggy clothes and chains.

“Hey, bro, that’s a nice watch.” One of the boys called out, at Viktor. The guy in question wore a red bandana around his head, and black gages in his ears. He pointed towards the watch with an empty beer bottle, just ready to smash the glass into a weapon. “That real? Think I can get a look at it?”

Viktor frowned, ignoring the group. He and Yuuri continued to walk. Red Bandana didn’t like that very much. He ordered something of his lackies, so two of the delinquents rushed forward to cut Yuuri and Viktor off.

“You know these guys?” Yuuri asked, under his breath.

“Not by name. And they’re not wearing any gang symbol I know… but I can tell you their type.” Viktor side-glanced the boys, who were triumphantly thinking that they had scored gold. “The architype of kids who got tired of getting everything they wanted out of Daddy’s money.”

“The hell you whispering on about?” One of the lackies in front of them snapped, a guy with overly gelled spikes in his bleached hair.

“Ah, my apologies,” Viktor turned his entire attention to their would-be muggers. “I was just telling my boyfriend here that you all look like silver spoon brats, just playing at street life.”

Red Bandana barged up from the crate he was sitting on, so that he could shatter the bottom of his bottle and shove it close to Viktor’s face. Viktor didn’t even blink. With the boy’s face so close in color to his bandana, he could have been waving around a baby bottle for all Yuuri and Viktor cared.

“I’ll show you who’s playing at street life when I cut up that bitchy little mouth of yours!”

One other lackie was now getting up from the crates and advancing on Yuuri and Viktor from behind. They were now surrounded. 

Viktor looked at Yuuri, standing at his side. “Would you like to handle this, or shall I?”

Bleached Head Sonic’s friend, who clearly lacked basic brain cells, laughed. “What’s the little guy gonna do? Bust out some Karate Kid shit on us?”

Yuuri met Viktor’s question with deadpan annoyance. He nodded.

Viktor addressed Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum before them. “Actually,” he said, just barely containing his excitement, “I don’t think he’ll need such a high class martial art to take your lot down.”

Enraged, the lackies charged at them from both sides, brandishing their brass knuckled fists. Yet Yuuri wanted to laugh. These punks were all clunky and inexperienced with fighting. If they tried their wide swings and blind bull charges on kids south of the Río, they’d kiss the pavement for sure. Yuuri dodged their first couple hits and then knocked the two out in front of him. When the guy behind Yuuri tried to grab him, Yuuri threw him into the wall of the alleyway. When the guy tried to charge again, Yuuri punched him back into the bricks. Three down, two to go.

The ring leader was far too easy to disarm, when he charged. After going against Mama Lyuba the night before, this just wasn’t a challenge at all. Even when Red Bandana pulled Plan B, with a semi-automatic pistol dangerously kept in his loose jean pockets, Yuuri could have groaned. He took one look at the untrained hold of the weapon, and then twisted it out of Bandana’s hands with the kind of disarming move taught to civilians taking self-defense classes. Yuuri then had the pistol emptied of its magazine in seconds. He used the butt of the weapon to knock back Red Bandana. 

The final guy, judging by the growing wet spot going down the side of his expensively frayed jeans, wasn’t going to even try. He hadn’t even left the base of the crates. Blunt still in hand, he held his arms up in surrender.

When Red Bandana recovered from the daze of being smacked up the head by his own weapon, he too took a faltering step back from Yuuri. Unconsciously, Yuuri stood up taller, his chin up in victory.

“Fuck you, man!” Red Bandana spat, even as he shied away from a rematch. The lackies on the ground stirred and groaned. “You ain’t worth shit!”

The words bounced off Yuuri’s resolve. All he took in was how these people were cowering before him. He commanded the space in this alleyway. It was a high like no other.

“Next time, boys, just stick with Daddy’s credit cards, alright?” Viktor taunted, coming up to rejoin Yuuri at his side. “Let this be a warning. You’re not tough enough for these streets.”

Yuuri soared with confidence, with reassurance. There was something so right about standing by Viktor, headed by those who had no choice but to recognize the power the two held. None of the delinquents stopped Yuuri and Viktor as they made their way out of the alley.

Yuuri thought about calling the police, but then he decided against it. Those boys were probably embarrassed enough as it was, without having to call their upper-class parents into the mix.

Not wanting to hide a gun at his house, Yuuri passed the pistol and magazine over to Viktor. He was certain that this weapon would just become one of many in the Nikiforov house. Viktor inspected the make and model, before deciding it would be of use to him. Yuuri watched, fascinated, by the fluidity of Viktor handling a gun. It seemed weightless in Viktor’s hands, an extension of his arm. What a side Yuuri never expected of his childhood friend. And not even half an hour ago, Viktor had been crying against Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri was now resolved more than ever to keep Viktor in his life. It didn’t matter if Viktor thought Yuuri would be safer without him. Now knowing this hidden side of Viktor, Yuuri wanted nothing more than to learn as much as he possibly could. He was thrilled by the swagger Viktor had held against the wannabe gangsters – inspired by it, even. More than that, Yuuri was so pleased by his own strength. His posture did not deflate an inch on the walk home.

Viktor must have noticed, because he kept checking over at Yuuri, his eyes roaming appreciatively. Yuuri preened under the attention. The sky crackled above them, charging the energy between them.

It was nearing midnight, so Yuuri thought it would be harmless if Viktor walked him the rest of the way. Not for safety. The two were now just delaying saying goodbye. When they were a building down from Yu-Topia, the two slowed to a stubborn stop.

Under another streetlamp, Yuuri studied the heated fondness in Viktor’s expression. The two stood as close as the heat would allow, unconsciously reaching for each other.

“Can we see each other again?” Viktor asked, staring back into Yuuri’s eyes with equal intensity. Wind now rushed around them, unnoticed.

“I’d like that.” Yuuri said, thinking once again how horrible he was at going about this carefully. Even if he had already decided he wanted Viktor, he should have waited. Made Viktor prove himself. But no. Ironically, for once in his life, Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to worry enough.

Viktor started to say something, hesitated, and then rushed out, “Can I kiss you?”

Yuuri, stupid, impulsive, answered Viktor by pressing his lips against Viktor’s.

It was that needed breath of air after so long underground, as short as the kiss was. There was bold, heavy energy between them. They both wanted the kiss to last, to go deeper. But this was just the trial run. A promise of what could come.   

“Ah, so much for being friends first.” Viktor laughed softly.

“We were always friends.” Yuuri said.

Viktor shook his head. “We were always something more.”

Yuuri nodded. He understood, intimately, that Viktor didn’t mean ‘something more’ as romantic. From the way they connected almost instantly as children, polar opposites as they were, to the way they gravitated around each other now. There had always been ‘something more’ than friendship.

Viktor let Yuuri go reluctantly. They made their agreement to call each other, to plan another outing. Once reassured that this would continue, Viktor let Yuuri go inside.

This night, this time, Yuuri fell into his bed as a mess of giggles.

-/-/-

There was a good morning message waiting for Yuuri. It carried him through the day as he spent his time off picking up the depression clutter in his room. He did laundry, dusted, and even offered to carry things to the salon side from the storage closet. His parents very much appreciated the help, since Hiroko – the one who usually carried things – was busy, and Takeshi – the one whose strength was nearly on Yuuri’s level – was off that day.

Hiroko continued to smile over Yuuri’s noticeable good mood.

In the good morning message, Viktor had warned that he would be busy that day and would try to call that evening. Yuuri waited patiently for that call. When he ran out of things to do, he busied himself with video games.

Viktor called after Yuuri had his dinner, around seven.

They exchanged pleasantries, before Viktor got right to the point.

“Would you like to come to my place to join my family for dinner? Sometime next week, maybe?”

Yuuri blinked, his hand going loose around the phone. “You mean… _just_ your family?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Well. Dinner with a crime lord. What an invitation!

“It was Mama Nina’s idea.” Viktor added. “Then again, I think she suggested it as a means of an intimidation tactic. Which would explain why Yura was okay with the idea.”

“Oh,” Yuuri blanked again. “Um. Does Yuri know… that I know?”

Viktor took a deep breath. “From my understanding, the chloroform was his idea. He was very disappointed to learn that it doesn’t work the way it does in the movies.”

Ah, nothing said ‘welcome to our family’s secret!’ like attempted murder. Yuuri was starting to wonder who else in the Nikiforov household held ambivalent or less than friendly opinions towards him. Besides that, wasn’t Yuri twelve? Thirteen? How badly did it influence a kid to be raised in a criminal family? Then again, from Yuuri’s brief interaction with Viktor’s little half-brother, Yuri seemed naturally ready to throw down.

And then something else occurred to Yuuri. The chloroform? That rag the first attacker had tried to use on Yuuri?

“Wait, you know about that?” He asked.

“Mama Lyuba was very insistent that Papa and I watch the security footage from the lobby.” Viktor’s smile was audible.

“And… what did your dad think?”

“He was surprised.” Viktor answered, readily enough. “Mind you, surprising Roman Nikiforov is hard.”

Yuuri almost took it as a compliment, but then something about Viktor’s tone suggested that it was not fond surprise. Not like when Viktor was happily surprised by Yuuri. More like incredulousness forcibly proven wrong. Would interacting with Roman ever not feel like a job interview? What would Yuuri have to do to prove himself capable and trustworthy?

Maybe a prolonged interaction would help. It wasn’t fair to base all judgments on a five-minute meet and greet.

“Okay, yeah. I’d be happy to join your family for dinner.”

“Perfect!” Viktor then paused. “Did you want me to pick you up.”

“…Yes.” Yuuri decided. A week was enough time to figure out how to break it to the rest of his family that he and Viktor were getting back together. Or, just getting together. Depended on how they looked at it.

-/-/-

Ultimately, Yuuri went for a direct approach. On a rare occasion when the family was able to eat dinner together – Chinese take-out – he informed his parents that he and Viktor were now together.

“And he invited me to join his family for dinner.” Yuuri finished. He didn’t have to extrapolate. His family would understand this much: Yuuri and Viktor were going to be serious now.

Mari deflated a little in surprise of Yuuri being so outright. Dinner at the Nikiforov Estate was also new news to her. She too checked Hiroko and Toshiya, to see their reactions.

Toshiya, who hadn’t been informed of all the details of the split, was happy for Yuuri. He knew Viktor as Yuuri’s best friend, and thought that the two had had a small fight.

“You made up? That’s good.” He said, in Japanese. That had always been the language he was most comfortable with, and Yuuri was long used to responding in a mixture of Japanese and English. This time, Yuuri only needed to nod.

Then, barely lifting his head, Yuuri turned to his mother. Hiroko was the only other person who had witnessed Viktor and Yuuri’s infamous misunderstanding. She had seen Viktor play all pompous and knew first hand how it affected Yuuri.

She put her rice down. Her eyes were searching, her expression careful.

“Is this what makes you happy?” She asked, softly.  

“Yes.” Yuuri put as much conviction in his answer as he could. “Viktor makes me happy.”

Seeing something hopeful in Yuuri’s resolve, Hiroko smiled.

“Then I’m happy for you.”

Yuuri let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

At the same time, heavy reluctance formed in Yuuri's heart. He had a strong feeling that this night would become the first of many that he kept his family in the dark about the man he was determined to chase after. 

-/-/-

Going back to Dajie Island was a surreal experience.

Last time, Yuuri had been invited to the Nikiforov Estate for a grand party. This time, Yuuri was invited to Viktor’s home for a private, family dinner. When Yuuri had first seen the grandeur of the property, the palace of a house, he had been able to attribute it to the city’s king, Roman Nikiforov.

But now… with Viktor in the driver’s seat next to Yuuri, unlocking the front gate over the intercom, Yuuri couldn’t make that distinction anymore. This was Viktor’s house. This was where he lived.

This was the castle they built from drug wars and an iron grip on the city.

Driving into sight of the mansion, something lodged itself in Yuuri’s throat. He let Viktor lead him to the door, after the chauffeur – Mr. Altin, Otabek’s dad – took the car to be parked. Then that balding butler, who had checked the Katsuki family off the guest list for the New Year’s party, was there to greet Yuuri again. Yuuri, now a little less distracted by the looming architecture, had a better look at the man.

The butler wore a black suit with a navy silk scarf and he held a tablet. His face, for how square it was, betrayed a rather softly exasperated expression. Viktor introduced the man as Yakov Feltsman, the head of the house staff. Politely enough, Yuuri and Yakov shook hands. Yet Yakov’s scowl never dropped from his face.

“Yakov is as much of a family member as any Nikiforov,” Viktor smiled. “He’s like a second dad to me.”

Yakov grunted. “This is how Vitya tries to get out of me lecturing him, for bringing a civilian into all this.”

“See,” Viktor said, unabashed. “He cares so much!”

“That’s one way to put it.” Yakov muttered. He then checked his tablet, and informed Viktor that Roman was still finishing up some work in his office.

“Lyuba will be waiting for you in the receiving room to the dining area.” He said. “Though, I am unsure whether Yura is still practicing or not. You may need to give him time to freshen up.”

“Thank you, Yakov, I love you too!” Viktor waved goodbye, guiding Yuuri towards the west hallway. Yuuri remembered that the east hallway led to the ballroom. Viktor smiled at Yuuri. “Would you like a tour?”

“Sure!”

Yuuri learned that the rooms on the east side first floor were primarily for entertaining guests. Across the hall from the ballroom, and along the front of the house, was a banquet hall, parlor, a powder room, and bathroom. Situated more in a corner of the house was a commercial style kitchen. However, Viktor explained, that kitchen was only used when hosting large events.

Viktor told Yuuri all about these more public rooms while choosing to start the tour on the west side of the house. The domestic side of the house. He showed Yuuri the living room, family library and study, and the sun room. The sun room was situated on the west wing, with a glass wall outcropping facing the Pacific.

Every room was larger than Yuuri’s own living room and kitchen combined. Even more impressive was that the ceiling of the first floor was higher than the other floors. Yuuri stood back in awe of the sweeping crown molding. Each piece of furniture was so smooth and spotless that Yuuri had a hard time imagining anyone living in these spaces.

At the very least, in the library, Yuuri noticed many books wearing signs of age and love. The room smelled and felt like people, and not empty cleanliness. The mahogany bookshelves were warm in color with the sunlight doing its best to filter past the drawn cream curtains. All the furniture, chairs and tables alike, appeared antique.

Yuuri ran his hand along the titles, as Viktor pointed out which were his favorite. When Yuuri noticed books in other languages, Viktor pointed out which ones belonged to Mama Mei. Incredible. Yuuri never knew that Mei also knew French and Arabic, on top of her Mandarin, Cantonese, and Shainghainese. Viktor admitted that while Mei had successfully taught him how to read Chinese, he still wasn’t great at the pronunciation. In this family, Yuuri realized, that meant Viktor wasn’t perfectly fluent enough to meet Mei’s expectations.

Still, the library was Yuuri's favorite room.

Once Viktor believed that he had given sufficient time for his brother to wash up from practice, the two headed over towards the dining room. Sure enough, Mama Lyuba was there at the receiving room. There was a mini bar, from which she was sipping a cocktail.

Lounging on a loveseat, his feet kicked over the armrest, Yuri glanced uncaringly over at Yuuri and Viktor’s entrance. He held a glass of what was most likely Coke. Whether there was rum in cup, Yuuri decided he’d rather not know. The teen had such a lithe body. Yuuri couldn’t imagine Yuri having much of an alcohol tolerance.

“Hello, Yuuri,” Lyuba greeted with a warm tone. “Would you like a drink?”

Yuuri nearly reminded her that he was underage, and then remembered where he was. “A single of something is fine.”

She poured him a vermouth and white soda combination, with a lemon sphere for garnish. The drink was dry and unfamiliar from the sweeter drinks Yuuri had snuck before. Still, it wasn’t bad. Then again, maybe Yuuri was a little distracted from all the grandeur, and any alcohol to sooth his nerves was welcome.

“Hello, Yura,” Yuuri said, once a few sips of his drink had him a little more at ease.

Yuri jerked his head to acknowledge the guest’s presence.

“Yakov mentioned that you were practicing something…” Yuuri started, looking for a way to fill the awkwardness between himself and the youngest Nikiforov.

“Yeah. Pirouette kicks.” Yuri grinned.

“Pirouette… kicks…?”

“That’s what I said. You slow as well as poor?”

Viktor leaned towards Yuuri with an explanation. “Yura likes to come up with ways of combining his two favorite things: ballet and Tae Kwon Do.”

“Gotta perfect it before I get sent off to that dumb boarding school this year.”

Through all of this, Yuuri was surprised that Mama Lyuba had done nothing to curb the boy’s behavior. He was reminded of how Viktor was allowed to be as cocky and rude as he wanted as a child. And then it occurred to him that Yuri was studying ballet, while Viktor had said that Roman never allowed him that privilege. Guess even in criminal empires, the youngest siblings were spoiled.

Roman took another ten minutes to show. His stance was drained at first glance, but he put on a show of smiling like a TV show host once he saw Yuuri. Gliding by his sides, moving as one unit to Roman, were Mei and Nina.

Just like at the New Year’s party, their shoulders were not squared with their usual bravado, but instead their entire presence seemed to fade into Roman’s. The two were no longer the ones that commanded the room, but only enhanced Roman’s display of power.

Yuuri felt himself blush. Now he knew why the women acted the way they did around Roman.

Mama Lyuba had a drink in hand for Roman, without him commanding her of anything. Though, she held back from approaching him unpermitted, waiting first as he greeted Yuuri. Contrasting that, the younger Yuri didn’t move from his lounging position. The only other person in the room who reacted to Roman’s presence was Viktor, who unconsciously straightened. The reaction was reminiscent of a soldier, and when Yuuri noticed, he had to fight back a frown.

“Hello, good to see you again, young man!” Roman said, taking Yuuri’s hand for a firm shake. Yuuri noticed that Roman never apologized for keeping Yuuri waiting. Which wasn’t all that surprising. Roman Nikiforov had no reason to be the apologetic type.

“Good to see you too,” Yuuri responded in a clear voice, remembering his trainers’ lessons on confidence.

“I was informed that Vitya gave you a brief tour. How was it?” Roman tilted his head, just slightly. He fixed Yuuri with a look that suggested he wouldn’t take anything less than ‘your home is magnificent, as expected’ for an answer.

“Honestly? I keep thinking this place is a palace.” Yuuri answered, keeping his opinions on wasted space and useless extravagance to himself. Hopefully Roman would like the idea of being indirectly likened to a monarch.

He did. He laughed, throwing his head back and holding his stomach. “Of course!” He said, and then winked clandestinely. “This city must always know its ruler.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement, as if that statement didn’t send chills down his back.

“In fact, just yesterday, I sent MS-13 a message, to remind them that this is our territory.” Roman continued. By his tone, that message had entailed a bit more than curt words. He patted Yuuri on the shoulder. “So, you and your loved ones can sleep easy tonight, knowing that I keep El Valle safe.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri found himself saying.

Viktor was right. This dinner was an intimidation tactic. He would have to keep that on the forefront of his mind; this was his chance to prove to Roman that he wasn’t just some questionable kid from North bank of the Río.

Roman then turned from Yuuri to make a gesture at Lyuba. She brought him his drink, and then fell in line with Mei and Nina.  When Roman made his way to the dining room doors, Yuri finally stood from his seat. The group made their way to the table, which was already set and waiting.

On the tour, Viktor had mentioned that the house had a breakfast room off the kitchen, where the family usually ate breakfast and quick lunches. Staff sometimes had nice dinners in the breakfast room. Dinners for the family, on the other hand, were a formal affair. Yuuri marveled at the reflective porcelain dishes and bright floral centerpieces on the table, imagining what it was like to eat like this every evening.

Roman invited Yuuri to take the seat to the right of him, near the head of the table. Viktor sat at the other end of the table. The two looked at each other, when Yuuri realized that he wouldn’t have Viktor right beside him for this trial. Viktor sent a reassuring smile.

Roman’s sons had sat at their own volition once the patriarch and guest were seated. But the women had to wait for permission to sit. Yuri sat at Viktor’s right, while Lyuba, Mei, and Nina took to Roman’s left. There was a total of four chairs on each side of the table, leaving three chairs empty.

They did not wait long for the appetizer. Bowls of wafting soup were placed in front of all of them by uniformed staff members. The head chef and sous chef came out to explain the course, both in the type of thick Russian accent of those who were used to speaking their native language to those who would understand them. If it weren’t for their uniforms, Yuuri would have mistaken the middle-aged redheaded man for the head chef, since he had a barely contained excitement in his eyes, while the actual grandfather of a head chef stood with much more sobriety.

“Thank you, Chef Plisetsky, Babichev.” Roman nodded once the proud chefs had said their piece. Roman then turned to Yuuri with an intention of explanation. “Nikolai Plisetsky has worked for our family so long, that he has become family.”

Yuuri’s mouth popped open in surprise. He recognized the surname Plisetsky as being Nina’s maiden name. This was Yuri’s maternal grandfather. Nina didn’t find much importance in discussing her childhood, but if she was anything like Otabek and Mila, then that meant that she had grown up with Roman.

“We hired Alexie Babichev here in America. He has proven an invaluable member of our household.” Roman gestured to the sous chef. “We already have high hopes for his daughter.”

Mila, Yuuri realized. When he had met her at the party, she had mentioned her father worked in the kitchen. Yuuri could now liken the look in her father’s eyes to hers.

They tried the soup, expressed their delight. The chefs respectfully excused themselves.

“Pardon me,” Yuuri spoke up, half way through his soup. “May I ask when your family came over to America?”

“You absolutely may!” Roman exclaimed. He set down his spoon, so that he could immerse Yuuri into the story of their family. “You must know, first, that the Nikiforov family has always had the divine right to rule. Not over royal courts, because, truly, those men were always the puppets. No, no. The Nikiforovs have always been the puppeteers. _We_ are always the ones who decide whether a city thrives or collapses.

“But you can imagine,” Roman leaned in, his eyes severe, “How others would envy this power. This true power. We were never petty thieves, never the careless criminals getting carted away to the gulag. Inevitably, our enemies mistook our privilege for collaboration. Our family became caught up in a war between organizations, between loyalties, of which we felt we had no business. When conditions no longer served my father, he sent my mother to America, to rebuild the empire here.

“My mother arrived with just a few, loyal staff – Plisetsky included – and her two sons. My brother and I were barely out of the cradle. She was to wait until my father joined her, but when he was killed by our enemies, she was left to singlehandedly rebuild the Nikiforov empire here.”

“Wow,” Yuuri let out. “And was your mother your father’s wife, or…”

“She was his pet.” Roman answered, simply. “Quite peculiarly, his _only_ pet.”

Oh. Yuuri didn’t know that a Nikiforov could have just one pet. That particular bit of information got filed away into a part of Yuuri’s brain that was forming ideas it shouldn’t.

Yuuri looked across the table to study his trainers. It struck him as a sign of respect, that his seniors would allow Yuuri to see and interact with them when they were not the authorities of the room. Still, Yuuri understood that Lyuba, as Roman’s primary, held more power than Yuuri could ever dream. Evidently, a primary pet – like Viktor’s grandmother – could turn a dinky riverside town into a city of dreams, all on her own.

‘ _You’d be surprised_ ,’ Lyuba had said, ‘ _How much power you can obtain just even kneeling at the feet of someone like Roman_.’

It was such an unexpected and intimidating idea that these demure, perfectly poise women in front of Yuuri could overrule El Valle’s mayor. Maybe even the Californian governor.

Now Yuuri understood why the Nikiforov patriarchs valued such a tradition. These submissive yet deadly women, these pets, were the foundation in this masterpiece of monarchy, and then they went on to ensure its legacy. What a role! Yuuri wondered, before he could recognize and shake off the thought, what it would be like to be in such a position of simultaneous respect and support. He looked down the table, to see Viktor checking back on him. Viktor’s eyes were studious, yet his thoughts undeterminable. He still offered Yuuri another smile, likely having no idea of what was running through Yuuri’s head.

Yuuri… supporting Viktor… by being recognized for his own power. The two absolutes Yuuri had yearned for so many years.

And then Yuuri had to duck his head back towards his soup, to hide his blush.

The second course – a spread of pâté, cheese, and bruschetta, accompanied by wine – was rather plain in conversation. Roman asked more about Yuuri’s family, so Yuuri ended up taking a turn telling the story of how his parents came to America. It wasn’t as nearly an interesting story as a centuries old Russian criminal family picking up shop and moving across the ocean. Roman was polite, but not as animated as he was when he told his own family’s history.

Once the subject of history was exhausted, Roman asked Mei her opinion on recent import policies in El Valle. Yuuri was lost in all the technical talk; he only picked up on the tidbit that the Nikiforov’s closest business partner was Mei’s family, who were still situated in Beijing.

Yuuri could only assume that this subject was purposely chosen, also as an intimidation tactic. Might as well let their civilian guest know that the Nikiforovs had connections in other countries. Roman could have made his point just has easily by warning Yuuri outright, ‘There’s no where to leave our sphere of influence.’

Once the entrée arrived, Yuuri was noticeably sitting up straighter. He kept reminding himself not to appear overwhelmed or scared. He was here as Viktor’s special guest. Viktor cared for him. _Loved_ him. Nothing bad would happen to Yuuri, he reasoned with himself.

Unfortunately, Yuuri startled when Roman abruptly turned the focus back on him.

“Yuuri, I was impressed with my pets’ success with you.” He chuckled, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. “If anyone had told me that the north bank kid I met on New Year’s would be able to hold his own against my Lyuba in a fight, well, I would have a hard time believing them.”

Yuuri’s cheeks heated. His eyes pricked, and he couldn’t pinpoint why. “Thank you.”

“I have to say… you and your family have brought much joy to mine. You have been such precious entertainment to my Vitya all these years. Please, if there’s anything that I can do for your family, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thank you, again.” Yuuri repeated like a broken record. He stilled his chin from wobbling and hoped that the moisture in his eyes came off as gratitude.

One glance down the table confirmed that Viktor wasn’t entirely happy with the phrasing ‘precious entertainment.’ Such words still made Yuuri double guess if this was all just a game to the Nikiforovs – an innocent commoner to train and flaunt around. But Viktor appeared as if he wanted nothing more than to sweep Yuuri out of this room, away from his parents’ perfectionist stares, so that the two could be alone and happy. Even if dinner wasn’t over yet, Yuuri would have followed Viktor wherever.

Instead, the two sat through dinner and then dessert. The first chance he saw, Viktor stood up from the table and offered Yuuri a continuation of the house tour.

Thankfully, Viktor had phrased the proposition in such a way that Roman was delighted to have Yuuri see the rest of the mansion. Yuuri was let go from the table, and he followed after Viktor.

Viktor took them back to the lobby, to take them up one of the grand, half circle staircases to the second floor. Once again, Yuuri admired the hanging ivies off the second-floor railings, the high crested ceiling and chandelier. When they made it to the second-floor landing, there was a series of paintings. Landscapes of the city, of the property, of the neighboring mountains. Right in the center, however, was a five by three-foot portrait of a man and woman, with two little boys.

“My grandfather, Yuri Nikiforov.” Viktor explained, when Yuuri’s attention was drawn to the portrait. No one in the picture was smiling, but the artist had captured a warmness to the way Yuri Sr held his woman, and to the knowing mirth in his eyes. This man was almost a splitting image of Roman, with his moon silver hair, low studious brows, and strong jaw.

Viktor pointed at each person, first to the woman and the baby she held. “My grandmother, Anna. She’s holding my uncle.” He then pointed to the little boy standing in front of Yuri Sr, holding his father’s hand. “And my Papa.”

Anna was depicted quite honestly, for a woman who probably could have been painted angelic for the sake of status. It wasn’t that she was unattractive. Her hair had a golden tint to it, bobbed and waved away from her face, and her long lashes brought about a deep intensity to her eyes. But what grabbed Yuuri’s attention was the round, soft youth in her equally stress lined face. She was ageless. Yuuri could only imagine her having a cheeky heart shaped smile, just like Viktor.

And then Yuuri looked to the baby. Roman’s little brother.

“I don’t think I’ve met your uncle.” Yuuri said.

“You haven’t.” Viktor shook his head. “And you won’t. He died long before I was born.”

“What?” Yuuri looked at Viktor. “Why didn’t your dad mention that in his story?”

“Because Papa killed his brother in a grab for power.”

The sentence hung in the air, as Yuuri’s eyes went wide. But before he could splutter out a reaction, Viktor’s smile returned, and he gave a reassuring squeeze to Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Just kidding. That’s what Papa tells people when they ask. It’s another one of his ways of intimidating people.” Viktor looked back up the portrait, studying the little baby in Anna’s arms. “No, Papa didn’t mention him in the story because he’s still distraught over what happened.”

Yuuri looked back at the baby too. Roman had to be around sixty years old now, so if his younger brother died more than 23 years ago… He couldn’t have been more than thirty years old. Such a young death.

“… what happened?” Yuuri dared to ask. Was it a drive by? A shoot out?

“My uncle was about twenty… he and Papa were reaching the ages at which they would soon inherit the empire. That was what my grandmother intended: for them to rule together. But my uncle started sampling our merchandise. At first, Papa said uncle just used the milder stuff. Coke, marijuana. It wasn’t too unusual, so no one stopped him. But then his drug of choice just started getting heavier and heavier… until one day he just overdosed.”

“Oh.” Yuuri said, softly. That wasn’t nearly as exciting as his other guesses.

“Papa blames himself. He thinks he was a horrible brother for not intervening earlier. To this day, he won’t let Yura and I near even a cigarette.”

“That makes sense though. He sounds like a smart man, and he shouldn’t blame himself.” Yuuri stood closer to Viktor, trying to be a comforting presence. He thought about Mari. Yuuri knew, even if his parents didn’t, that Mari had tried other things besides nicotine. While she didn’t regret her experiences, she had told Yuuri multiple times that she’d never recommend him using drugs. Even just cigarettes got old and expensive after a while.

“I know.” Viktor sighed. “When my grandmother died of heartbreak a year afterwards, Papa had to take on the empire by himself. He never wants that to happen to Yura or I.”

Yuuri paused, and then asked, “Is that why he’s so strict with you?”

Viktor nodded. “He and I butt heads a lot, but I know deep down that he only means well. He wants me to be prepared.”

The two stood in respectful silence, studying the portrait. Yuuri felt a little guilty, for thinking such narrow things about Roman. Throughout Viktor’s childhood, Yuuri had always been annoyed with how tight of a leash Roman kept on Viktor. But Roman had his reasons, when Yuuri cared to consider that. After all, the man ruled the entire underground of a booming, golden city, _and_ the family’s cover business.

When Yuuri couldn’t stand the melancholy any longer, he tugged at Viktor’s arm.

“Come on, you said you were going to show me the rest of the house.”

Viktor shook off the mood quick enough, to smile at Yuuri. “Yes, I did.”

Yuuri returned the smile, and let his hand slip down Viktor’s arm, so that he could twine their fingers together.

Viktor took Yuuri to the east side of the second floor first, to show off the rec rooms: a billiards room, gym, and studio – which was used for a mixture of dancing and martial arts. He showed Yuuri where to access the balcony to the ballroom.

On the west side were spare rooms. The ones closest to the lobby were all extra bedrooms, suites, and then on the wing of the house were the nursery and Yuri’s current room.

Viktor held a finger over his mouth, to swear Yuuri to secrecy, before giving Yuuri a peek inside the preteen’s suite. Yuuri blinked in surprise, his jaw dropping a little. What wasn’t covered in metal posters and black décor were so many animal prints. Cat prints to be specific. The room was filled with rock music paraphilia, books and magazines, trophies, and would likely have been cluttered if it weren’t for the house having maids. There was also a fair collection of beanbag chairs. Lying nonchalantly on one such beanbag was a furball of a white and gray cat.

“You guys have pets!” Yuuri noticed.

Viktor smiled ruefully. “Potya is allowed because he keeps out of the way. When I asked for a dog as a kid, Papa offered trained _attack_ dogs. Rottweilers, German Shepherds, the like. And while I have nothing against those breeds, I’ve always wanted more of a companion.”

“I work at a pet shop. We have adoption fairs every now and then. Next one we have, I’ll let you know.” Yuuri offered. What he didn’t mention, because he was embarrassed by it, was that one of the biggest reasons he applied to work at a pet shop was because he always wanted a dog. But the third floor of an apartment and a city block were not the prime places to raise a dog.

Viktor laughed. “I’d love to see Papa’s reaction if I ever came home with a shelter dog!”

Potya glanced up at them sleepily. Feeling like the cat would somehow have the ability to tell on them, Viktor and Yuuri closed the door of Yuri’s room.

They took another staircase to the top floor. The top floor was split into two sides: two master suites.

“When my grandmother commissioned this house, she already had the idea that Papa and my uncle would rule as equals. When Yura takes his place by my side, he will move to this floor.” Viktor pointed out the east side as belonging to Roman, and then guided Yuuri towards his own side.

Viktor’s entire suite was about two times larger than Yuuri’s apartment. Right inside the main entrance was a sitting room and door to a study, and then down a hall Viktor pointed out a few extra rooms. Currently, Viktor wasn’t using these rooms for anything more than storage, and when Yuuri tried to ask what the rooms were meant for, Viktor dodged the question with pink cheeks. Yuuri had an idea.

Still, Viktor let Yuuri wander around the suite, exploring everything.

Also down the hall was the door to Viktor’s bedroom and master bath. The bathroom was connected to a walk-in closet the size of Yuuri’s bedroom. There were balconies for both the sitting room and the bedroom.

Contrasting Yura’s room, Viktor’s room was much more refined in color and nature. But there were also fairytale elements. The bed on the right side of the room was an ashy wooden colored king-sized four poster; the posts were thick and carved like a castle bed. The bedspread was a solid dark blue, while the background of the room was a balance of white and silver. Across the room from the bed was a long bookshelf, which was a darker wood. All its books were classic bound tomes. Yuuri read titles of Shakespeare, Hans Anderson, Greek poems, Jane Austen, Oscar Wilde, and many names he did not immediately recognize.

The room was also decorated with flowers. Well-tended white roses grew out on the balcony, there was an orchid on a center table in front of the balcony glass door, and when Yuuri thought about it, he had seen vases of various flowers throughout the suite.

Yuuri’s head spun with all the spacious glamour. He was both in awe and flabbergasted. Since when did one person need all of this? Yuuri figured that two or three families could easily room in such a space. He ended up wandering back to the sitting room and collapsing onto a cream silver chaise.

“Too much?” Viktor asked, as self-conscious as he was when he had shown up to Yu-Topia in a hot pink Cadillac. Only this time, Yuuri was asked to comment on Viktor’s _private suite_ inside a _palace_. The Cadillac was seeming pretty modest in comparison.

“This place is bigger than my apartment!”

“I know,” Viktor chuckled, sitting down next to Yuuri. “To be honest, I had never seen a home that small until I hung out with you. I remember looking for more doors, thinking ‘this can’t be it.’”

“I must have seemed so poor to you!” Yuuri dropped his head in his hands.

Viktor cringed. “I am ashamed to say how long it took my mothers to convince me that your family was not impoverished. I was determined at first to, ah, make a charitable donation.”

Yuuri groaned into his hands. “Thank god you didn’t.”

“I am glad I did not do anything to embarrass your family.”

Yuuri peeked up from his fingers. “Remind me to thank your moms.”

Viktor laughed again. A much lighter laugh than all the ones leading up to it today. While Viktor hadn’t been wearing his mask, each smile and chuckle had been tinged with uncertainty. A need to reassure himself and Yuuri. Now that Yuuri was here – and seemingly getting comfortable on Viktor’s furniture – there was reason to relax.

“I’m happy that you’re not after me for my money.” He teased. 

Yuuri lifted his head, drawn into Viktor’s half-lidded twinkling eyes and beloved heart shaped smile. He realized where he was: alone, in Viktor's room. Before Yuuri even thought about it, he surged forward and kissed Viktor.

It was a clumsy kiss. Viktor wasn’t prepared, so Yuuri mostly kissed teeth, and when Viktor fell back in surprise, the two nearly tumbled off the chaise. The two ended up a mess of limbs, close together on the narrow cushion. 

Yuuri didn’t know if Viktor was thinking about it too, but all Yuuri could be reminded of was when they were on their nature hike date. Only this time, it was Yuuri sprawled over Viktor – who was gripping the edge of the cushion to keep the two from falling.

The first time the two had dipped their toes in intimacy, Viktor had been scared of letting Yuuri into a dangerous secret and life. Things were different now. Realizing this, excitement and lust thrummed through Yuuri. When he saw Viktor’s pupils dilate, he knew that Viktor was also realizing Yuuri’s intentions and growing need.

Viktor shifted them so that Yuuri sat between his legs, Yuuri’s legs on either side of Viktor’s waist. He tangled a hand in Yuuri’s hair to pull him back into a kiss, which, in its equally met experience – of each other’s lips, of each way to tilt and movement – sent a live current all the way down through Yuuri. He also reached up to take hold of Viktor, anywhere, anywhere he could pull Viktor in closer. Yuuri even nudged Viktor in closer by crossing his legs, trapping the two of them in a full body embrace.

Excitedly, Yuuri pushed the kiss deeper. He licked Viktor's lips apart, and was thrilled when Viktor gripped Yuuri closer in reciprocation. 

Their hands ran up and down back, neck, head alike. With their hips brushing, Yuuri could feel Viktor’s growing enthusiasm, as Viktor could likely feel Yuuri’s. Appreciatively, Viktor moaned into Yuuri’s mouth. And, dear lord, the sound, the feel, the _vibrations_ of that moan had Yuuri pulling on Viktor so hard that he repositioned them to Viktor hovering over Yuuri.

An image, vague at first, and then solidifying, surfaced in Yuuri’s mind. That dream he had. Viktor over him. Viktor covering him. Viktor _holding him down_.

Experimentally, Yuuri put his hands over his head, careful to keep his wrists together. Much to his absolute delight, Viktor picked up on the intent. With a flash of animalistic greed in his eyes, he pinned Yuuri’s wrists to the arm of chaise.

Black had almost chased away the blue in Viktor’s eyes, his cheeks were flushed, and Yuuri was losing his mind now with need. Almost fully hard, Yuuri pushed his hips against Viktor, making sure to rub teasingly slow with the contact. Even through their layers of clothing, heat between their two bodies had swirled together so perfectly that there was not a draft of cold between them.

Viktor dove to claim Yuuri’s lips again, pulling at Yuuri’s lips desperately in an almost bite. He then took to running his lips down Yuuri’s jaw, to the skin beneath the ear. Yuuri breathed out pleased sounds at the growing pressure of Viktor’s mouth on his skin.

“You…” Viktor groaned, his voice just as wrecked as Yuuri’s head felt. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what on purpose?” Yuuri asked back, not recognizing his own voice for how it shook.

Viktor leaned up, so that Yuuri could really see the desperation in every line of Viktor’s face.

“Ruining me.”

Yuuri’s tongue darted out along his lips. Viktor’s eyes followed the movement.

“What are you going to do about it?”

There were a million possibilities dancing in Viktor’s darkening, greedy eyes. A shudder ran down Yuuri’s body, his chest heaving with the effort of not tearing off both their clothes right then and there. Because right now, he had put Viktor in charge. And, as Yuuri was now learning, the anticipation of Viktor’s next move was just building upon Yuuri’s pleasure. 

Viktor was now looking up and down Yuuri’s body, as if deciding what he’d lavish, what he’d take for himself first. Yuuri had some ideas. Painfully hard, he needed his pants off right now. He glanced down, hoping that Viktor would understand.

Viktor did. With his free hand, Viktor first pushed up Yuuri's shirt and then trailed tantalizingly down the bare skin. Goosebumps followed the trail of Viktor's fingers, Yuuri's chest rising to meet Viktor's hand. And then he was cupping Yuuri’s erection through the fabric of his slacks. Yuuri let out an excited, relieved, breathy moan, urging Viktor to continue.

And Viktor, mean, mean, mean Viktor, took his time. It felt like he took a full minute just to unbutton Yuuri’s pants, and then another minute to unzip the pants open. All the while, he stared deep into Yuuri's eyes, drinking up every twitch of hips and hitch of breath. When his had was finally positioned right under the waistband of Yuuri’s boxers, he looked back into Yuuri’s eyes, this time seeking explicit permission.

“ _Please._ ”

The next second, Yuuri’s cock was in Viktor’s hand. Yuuri’s hips jerked up involuntarily, all coherency and rationality fleeing. He exhaled air and moans and needy whimpers, which only provoked Viktor further. Without letting up on Yuuri’s wrists, Viktor started up a tight pace. At first, his pumps were modest, just getting Yuuri used to the feeling of someone else holding him. Viktor had to find the angle and grip that pleased Yuuri the most. Once he had figured that out, then Yuuri’s head was left to go wild with the frantic feel of Viktor’s hand all up and down his cock, thumbing at the head, brushing against his balls.

Yuuri’s hips danced with the movement of Viktor’s hand, chasing after the rhythm. Yet he got out of pace, and through his hazed vision, noticed Viktor give him a reproachful look. Viktor then had to lift up off of Yuuri’s arms so that he could grab onto Yuuri’s hip. From there, just the strength in Viktor’s arm directed the movement of Yuuri’s hips, effectively leading even this dance. Yuuri now snapped up perfectly into Viktor’s palm.

Now not having to think about or do much of anything, Yuuri was lost to the pleasure. All his attention was on the feel of each glide of fingers, each twist of Viktor’s wrist. When Yuuri’s moans started increasing in volume, Viktor swallowed the next noise with a kiss. It was a sloppy kiss, as Yuuri couldn’t reciprocate that sinful movement of press and pull that had begun to define their kisses. Yuuri mostly panted against Viktor’s lips, as Viktor teased and licked.

Yuuri started to ascend the hill of climax before he even realized it. All Yuuri knew was that when he did this to himself, the closer he came to orgasm, the clunkier and faster his actions became. But here with Viktor, who was keeping up such a steady an unaffected pace, Yuuri felt his roll towards climax go on and on, just exponentially growing. The higher up that hill he went, the more his head fell back. Viktor soon couldn’t offer anymore clumsy kisses, and so he latched onto the base of Yuuri’s neck.

Climax just wasn’t coming soon enough. Yuuri tried to steal back the pace of his hips, but Viktor held him tight with an almost painful grip. Yuuri crooned in frustration and pleasure. Yet he knew then and there that there was no escaping Viktor’s control. Did Viktor know how much power he had in that moment? Did he know that Yuuri was ready to do anything that Viktor wanted?

All Viktor seemed concentrated on was turning Yuuri’s throat raw with moans. Heat, higher, climb, heat, more, higher, yes, yes, ‘yes,’ “yes,” “oh, god, yes!”

Yuuri’s body arched, his headspace entirely untethered to reality.

Minutes passed before Yuuri’s mind and body returned to the now hot, damp chaise. He blinked away the haze to find Viktor looking right at him, Viktor’s eyes beholding something divine, for how they shined. Wherever the two had just gone, heaven didn’t compare.

“Ah, Yuuri, why’d you do that?” Viktor dipped his forehead down to rest on Yuuri’s.

“Hmm?” Yuuri could only manage in response. His body felt fused with the cushion. His limbs were now heavy with lazy satisfaction.

“You’ve officially ruined me for anyone else.”

Yuuri closed the inch of space between them for another soft kiss. “Good.”

The two fell into each other. They stayed like that, their chests moving up and down in practiced rhythm, just taking a moment. Neither moved until Viktor noticed the drying cum in his hand and along Yuuri’s boxers. He heaved up to grab some tissues from the coffee table. Once they were cleaned up, Viktor repositioned them so that he was back on the cushion, and Yuuri lied on top of him.

Viktor drew circles along Yuuri’s back.

“I’ve been thinking… about us being lovers…” Yuuri started.

“Hm?” Viktor prompted.

“I think I want to take this further than being lovers.”

Viktor’s breath caught. His voice thrummed with anticipation. “How so, my love?”

Yuuri picked himself up so that he was looking down into Viktor’s eyes. “I want you to make me your pet.”

There was a pause. Whatever reaction Yuuri had been expecting, it wasn’t what he got.

The smile froze on Viktor’s face, yet the characteristic crinkles disappeared as Viktor’s eyes turned cautious.

“My pet?” Viktor blanked.

“Yes.” Yuuri wondered if Viktor preferred a different term, so he clarified. “Like the role your mothers play. I want to be that for you.”

Viktor’s smile fell. His entire body went rigid.  

“And I suppose it was my mothers who told you about this?”

“Yes.” It came out like a question. “Viktor, what’s–”

Yuuri couldn’t finish his sentence before Viktor was up and pushing Yuuri back. Reality came crashing down in the form a dark clouded weight in Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri hadn’t expected this. He thought… he thought Viktor would be happy. Maybe a little hesitant, just for Yuuri’s benefit. Make sure Yuuri truly wanted to be in his life this way.

(Yuuri did.)

A sharp cold, even while sitting in a perfectly air-conditioned room, struck through Yuuri when he got a glimpse of Viktor’s reaction.

Murderous.

“Excuse me,” he said, placing Yuuri almost too gently to the side. “I need to speak with my mothers.”

And then Viktor was out of the room. Yuuri had to jog after him to keep up with his long, driven legs. They went across the hall to a side door to Roman’s suite. The door was open to reveal Roman’s office, with Roman working at his desk, and the women standing near to provide whatever he needed.

Viktor stopped at the threshold, his body taking up the frame of the doorway. Yuuri could only hang back, trying to get on a read on Viktor with only a rear view.

“I need to speak with my mothers.” Viktor announced, his tone cold and demanding.

Roman checked up at his son. “Can this wait?”

“No.”

Roman sighed but yielded. He took some of his papers, laptop, and went over to the sitting room of his suite. As soon as the door was safely closed behind him, Viktor stormed into the study.

“You’ve been training him to be my _pet_?!” Viktor snapped. His volume never went over that for polite company, but there was nothing merciful about his stance. Yuuri now stood in the doorway, feeling sick with regret.

Lyuba stared at her son. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yuuri!” Viktor took a step forward. “He was fourteen when you started training him. _Fourteen_! And you never told me that you were training him, or even _why_.”

The women were unaffected.

“I have been trying to protect Yuuri! But you all went behind my back, for years, to make him… of all things, make him my pet?!”

“Are you finished yet?” Mei asked, deadpan. “Your father has important work. Don’t waste our time with baseless accusations.”

“Baseless? You want evidence then?” Viktor’s voice wavered as held up his fingers to count things off. “You kept this a secret from me, likely knowing that I would object to the decision. You’ve taught him other things besides fighting, like clothing and dancing – don’t think that I didn’t figure out he received his dancing lessons from you. And it was through your meddling that he even knows what this family does.”

Lyuba’s eyes flashed. Before Viktor could finish his piece, she interrupted. “Yes, Vitya. I looked at a little high school boy and thought, yes, he’d be the perfect sex slave for my son.”

“How dare you accuse us of this?” Mei added, her voice low in disgust.

It shot through Viktor’s resolve. His voice cracked.

“You’re telling me that’s not what your intention was?”

“No, of course it wasn’t.” Lyuba’s temper was just as controlled, just as deadly. “We were covering loose ends. We knew that you wanted the boy in your life. We thought he could use some self-defense skills.”

“Since clearly you weren’t thinking things through on who you made friends with.” Nina crossed her arms. “Lucky for you, you chose someone who actually had potential.”

Viktor visibly reconsidered everything, now just clinging to a point. “What’s this about him wanting to be my pet then?”

“I don’t know,” Lyuba’s attention glanced over at Yuuri, her brow quirked. She had been the one who told him not to rush into any decision. “I’m not a mind reader. You should maybe respect Yuuri as an autonomous actor, for once in your life, and ask him.”

Viktor turned around, somehow caught off guard that Yuuri had followed him. Yuuri forced himself not to retreat. He saw now Viktor’s shimmering eyes. Oh. Viktor was an angry crier.

Viktor met Yuuri at the door. He searched Yuuri, his brows low in growing severity. “This is something you actually want?”

Why wouldn’t Yuuri want this? Why wouldn’t he want to be Viktor’s greatest possession?

“Yes.”

Viktor nudged them out into the hall and took Yuuri’s hand. “Let’s talk.”

The two went back to Viktor’s suite. This time, Viktor had them sit down at a small table. Yuuri couldn’t help but notice the kitchenette next to the table, complete with a mini fridge and espresso machine. There was a bowl of fruit on the counter. Another vase of flowers beside it.

They sat in chairs across from each other. Formal. Almost businesslike. But Viktor still gathered Yuuri’s hands in his. He gripped Yuuri’s hands

“Do you know what you’re asking for?”

“I’d be your slave. Your guard, your submissive, anything you need of me. Correct?”

“Correct.” Viktor’s stare didn’t let up on Yuuri, and Yuuri suddenly felt like he was at another job interview. “And I’d be your owner. For life. Did you know that? It’s a lifelong commitment.”

Yuuri nodded, the next words stuck in his throat. He could not tell what Viktor was thinking. He just knew that even with the dampness of his earlier tears, Viktor would not accept any half-hearted responses. Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hands, urging a vocal response.

“Yes,” Yuuri steadied himself. “I already figured that out. And I want to spend a lifetime with you.”

“Why?”

What? Wasn’t the answer obvious? “Because you’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to hold onto.”

To Yuuri’s surprise and worry, Viktor leaned back and let out a tired exhale. He had given a wrong answer?

Viktor still pressed, “No. Why do you want to be my pet?”

That threw Yuuri off. He didn’t realize that Viktor would make such a distinction between being committed lovers to being committed in any other arrangement. To Yuuri, the only difference was how others perceived his relationship with Viktor. No matter what, Yuuri wanted to do whatever he could to impress Viktor, support him, and stay by his side.

Yuuri felt his fingers loosen from Viktor’s hands, fumbling for an answer. Noticing that hesitation, Viktor let go of Yuuri’s hands and made a move to stand.

“Do you not want me this way?” Yuuri asked before he could stop himself, cursing his open vulnerability. Now that he thought about it, of course Viktor wouldn’t want Yuuri as a pet. Yuuri wasn’t mercilessly confident like Viktor’s mothers. In fact, when Yuuri, in all his insecurities and worries, hung around the Nikiforovs, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

Viktor paused in his seat and looked back to Yuuri. The tears were now gone, and Viktor’s entire frame was set like the true heir to a criminal empire. Impassive, ruthless, possessive. “It’s not about whether or not I want you as a pet. If it was about that, then you’d already be mine.”

Yuuri shivered under Viktor’s dark stare.

“Then what is it about?” Yuuri asked. 

“You have no idea what you’re doing.”

A cold weight dropped on Yuuri’s chest. If he had a counter argument, his throat had tightened around it. Because Viktor was right. Yuuri had always known that. For years he had just played pretend at being a fighter, as if he belonged with those like the Nikiforov harem.

Yuuri couldn’t blame Viktor for being so cold now. Viktor was doing this for Yuuri’s own good – he knew that. And hadn’t Yuuri always appreciated Viktor for his honesty? For respecting Yuuri’s ability to take a critique and then work hard to surpass it?

Yes. Viktor was right. Yuuri was young. He wasn’t even old enough to drink yet. Even more, he had only learned a week ago what the Nikiforovs were.

But, but, this wasn’t something that Yuuri could give up on. Yuuri was certain now that he wanted this more than he wanted anything else in his life. Even before Yuuri had a word for it, this was the role, the opportunity he always needed in order to achieve what he wanted ever since he was a child.

It wasn’t about the sex. It wasn’t about even love.

Yuuri wanted confidence. He wanted the strength to walk into a room and watch as people parted to make way for him. He wanted to be in a position where people expected, upon looking at him, that he would only exude greatness. Ultimately, Yuuri wanted to be so confident that no matter where or how he stood, people dared not to underestimate him.

And the first time Yuuri had ever seen someone display exactly _that_ … was when he saw Lyuba, Mei, and Nina glide into Yu-Topia Spa and Salon, all those years ago.

If something shifted in Yuuri’s resolve, then Viktor noticed. A smile played at Viktor’s lips.

“I’ll ask you again. Why do you want to be my pet?”

“Because I want to be the greatest.” Yuuri sat up, feeling the rightness of his words surge through him. “I want to be the greatest with you.”

Viktor’s heart shaped smile returned, making Yuuri’s heart soar. “Perfect!”

-/-/-

Once Yuuri and Viktor were satisfied with their decision, they went to see Viktor’s mothers again. But when they stopped by Roman’s study, the women weren’t in there with him.

Roman threw an irritated glance at Viktor before waving his hand. “They’re in the parlor with Lilia.”

Yuuri blinked. Wow. The mothers moved fast. Were they anticipating this all along?

Yuuri and Viktor went downstairs to the parlor, to find the four women lounging around, as if they’d been there for hours and not just minutes. Quite the actresses.

“So,” Nina’s brow quirked. She was laying sideways on an armchair, a nail file in hand. “You two decided?”

“Yes. I’m going to take Yuuri on as my pet.” Viktor said. Yuuri, ironically for the situation, felt all gooey warm inside with Viktor’s declaration.

“No, you’re not.” Lilia spoke up, standing from a proper seated position.

Viktor balked at Lilia, a ‘I beg your pardon?’ splayed across his expression. “This is my decision.”

“I am the head trainer. No one becomes a pet under me in this house without my say so.”

When earlier Viktor had assumed his mothers had been trying to set Yuuri up as his pet, he now suspected them of obstructing the decision. He turned his incredulousness on them. “You called her just to stop this?”

“No,” Lyuba said. “Not stop. We’d be happy to have Yuuri as an underling. But Lilia does not think Yuuri is ready to take on the role, and we have to agree.”

“If you wish to take this commoner on as a pet, he’d need extra training.” Lilia crossed her arms. “He does not know how to act in upper class society, take orders, or even a word of Russian.”

Hey, Yuuri thought, that wasn’t true. He had picked up a few phrases from training under the mothers. The rest though… yeah.

Viktor tapped his chin. “I see. Yes, I’ll have to concede.”

Lilia strolled up to Yuuri, her gait as intimidating as her icy glare. “If you are committed to this, then you will give body and soul to this. I will not allow an embarrassment to bring down the reputation of this empire.”

Yuuri curled his hands into fists, staring back up at Lilia in as much resolve as he could muster. “I will never let Viktor down like that.”

“Very well, then." She leaned back out of his space. "You will move in to this house. I will not tolerate the hassle of transporting you back and forth. Understood?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened a little at that. Move into the Nikiforov estate? But he was ready to take on anything to achieve his goals.

“Understood.”

"Good. Vitya, take him home to pack immediately." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Roman's story about the Nikiforov family, he was referring to the Bitch Wars of about 1945 to 1953. When Stalin had taken power, he sent a lot criminals to labor camps (gulags), but prisoners were promised pardons if they served in the military. The wider mafia community considered those who took that deal as traitors (bitches to the government), and turned against them. 
> 
> I imagine that because the Nikiforovs were very good at working behind the scenes of whoever was in power, they got away from the criminal purges.


	5. rules and warnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally Anyone: Yuuri, don't do this thing  
> Yuuri Katsuki: *does exactly that*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow, I am still not sure to do with all the attention this story is receiving. But I appreciate every single comment, kudo, bookmark, and subscription. This is going to be a long chapter, relative to my other chapters, so I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> TW!!! See end notes for trigger warnings.

As it turned out, Yuuri did not go home to ‘pack immediately.’

Lilia had to be dissuaded from her believed power of suddenly relocating people to the Nikiforov Estate. Only Roman had the final say in inviting guests. The group thus had to move back upstairs to seek out Roman’s permission.

Roman must have expected such a decision from Lilia, because he immediately relegated responsibility of Yuuri’s stay and training over to his pets and their handler. He then wondered aloud when he’d be able to return to his work _in peace_. The group moved right out to the hall, without a halt in the conversation.

Yuuri was left to stand back, forced into nostalgia, as these four women debated over Yuuri’s future. He was fourteen all over again, waiting on bated breath. Emotions played leap frog in Yuuri’s chest. Disbelief tumbled over excitement, apprehension rolled together with relief.

This time however, Viktor was standing there with him, their hands entwined tight in support. He had to rely a bit on Viktor to cut in on the debate. This was so sudden – Yuuri thought, as if he wasn’t the one to throw this idea at Viktor without any warning – and Yuuri had questions. For example, if he were to move here, what would he do about his job?

“You won’t need any additional income. Resign.” That had been Lilia’s curt response. It took a bit of finagling on both Viktor and Yuuri’s parts to work out some details and concessions. In the end, Yuuri was given a week to get his bearings together. He would have liked more time, but Lilia refused to wait even a day more.

Okay, Yuuri slowly started to realize. Okay. This was happening. He had made a decision and now his life was about to change irrevocably. Everything would be different. A while later, as he was climbing into Viktor’s car to go home, a tiny hysterical giggle escaped past his lips.

Viktor checked on Yuuri, his hand paused on the way to start the engine.

“Yuuri?”

“Oh my god,” Yuuri stared out the windshield, words tumbling out in a squeak. “What am I going to tell people? My boss? My family?”

“What do they know?” Viktor asked, his hand falling away from the ignition. The car sat in neutral quiet.

Yuuri considered that question. He forced himself to calm down and consider his next steps rationally. “Well, just that we’re serious now. That we’re working things out. Would it be too sudden to tell them that I decided to move in with you?”

With his left hand, Viktor pursed over his fingers in thought. “Knowing you, no, it shouldn’t be too unusual.”

Yuuri had no idea whether to feel comforted or insulted. It took a second to remember that Viktor was generally on board with Yuuri’s surprising nature. He pushed past the comment. “I think it might be easier if you’re with me when I tell them. Just in case they want to interrogate you.”

“Yes,” Viktor smiled. “I think that would work. Should I treat them to dinner as well?”

Food was the fastest way to Toshiya and Hiroko Katsuki’s hearts. So, Yuuri agreed. The two now settled on a plan, Viktor drove Yuuri home.

Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure how to bring up the dinner invitation to his parents. He was a bit relieved to find that they were asleep by the time he got home. He had other things to work on anyways… like that one week notice resignation letter. But when sitting at his laptop didn’t produce immediate results, and Yuuri found himself producing more yawns than sentences, he surrendered to sleep instead.

The next morning, Yuuri had work. Ashamedly still, his resignation letter was barely a coherent paragraph. Yuuri had to just get ready and go. He waved to his mom on his way out the door, doing his best to project all his more positive emotions into his smile. After all, he had just spent an _amazing_ evening with Viktor, and would soon be working towards a life-long dream. Judging by her eager smile in return, he had done a good job in convincing her that everything was good.

Phichit wasn’t at work, so Yuuri didn’t have to share any half-baked plans. Since he had time to think things over, Yuuri’s thoughts were more organized after work. He sat down and completed his letter, and then spent the rest of his evening going through his room. It might have been too early to start packing, but Yuuri had no idea if this move would be permanent. Might as well start cleaning and organizing all the things in his room.

He knew his parents were finished closing shop when they both came upstairs. He met them in the kitchen to pose the invitation. Yuuri had no idea if they agreed to the dinner idea because they were momentarily hungry and would agree to any food related idea, but he had their rsvp. Viktor was able to make the reservation for the next night, when the family was usually able to eat dinner together.

One thing down, so many more to go.

-/-/- 

The following day, Yuuri had off from work. First thing in the morning, he swung by the pet shop to hand in his one-week notice. The letter was best summarized as a ‘I am continuing my career elsewhere, thank you for the excellent job experience.’ Relative to most retail jobs, Yuuri knew he had been quite fortunate.

Celestino was surprised and sad to receive the news, but he still wished Yuuri the best of luck in all his future endeavors. At loss for further words, Yuuri thanked his manager with a bow.

It wasn’t the practice in America, sure, but sometimes Yuuri wished it was. Sometimes things were hard to express in words, especially when lowering yourself in front of someone could say so much more.

When Yuuri stepped out of the pet shop, his emotions were a little tumbled and overwhelming. His legs carried him the several blocks down to that old brick ballet studio. Just like his mess of a room back home, he had no idea when he’d get another chance to practice here again. It was likely that Mama Lyuba would take on his ballet instruction.

Yuuri stepped inside the building and could hear music filtering down the stairs. Minako was busy with classes. That was fine. He bypassed that narrow wooden staircase to go to a small studio in the back of the building. This white tiled room was about half the size of the upstairs studios, and when it wasn’t being rented out to parties, it was left to collect dust.

Back in his senior year of high school, when a hectic agenda got in the way of a coherent ballet schedule, Minako had leased Yuuri the room for free. It became his escape when life became too much. Yuuri greeted that studio like an old friend, exhaling all his runaway thoughts when he walked through the threshold.

Yuuri stretched at the barre for about fifteen minutes, and then flicked through his playlist for solo routines he liked. With each jump and spin, his mind felt more at ease.

Minako came downstairs sometime between her 11:00 and 12:15 classes. She leaned against the doorway of the studio, snack bar in hand.

Even while Yuuri was swept up in his dancing, he knew she was there. He tried to ignore her sly grin when she recognized the routine, even if only he could hear it through his headphones. Truthfully, it was one of Yuuri’s guilty pleasures to dance to and watch, so he didn’t blame her amusement. The music came to a sweeping conclusion.

“Le Corsaire?” She asked the second she knew he could hear her.

Yuuri stood from the final position, panting. He went over to his backpack and took a drink of water, not giving Minako the satisfaction of an embarrassed answer. Okay, so maybe this ballet was considered one of the weirder ones out there – about pirates and flighty courtesans – but Yuuri enjoyed it for the high energy and challenging pirouettes.

He drank down a quarter of his water and the went over to the barre for cool down stretches. He watched Minako in the mirror. She shrugged and went over towards him.

“Hey, I’m just wondering what’s the happy occasion. You only dance to Le Corsaire when you’re in an especially good mood.” She took a bite of her bar, and then through a mouthful added, “Which, knowing you, has something to do with that Nikiforov kid.”

Yuuri froze in his plié. Darn Minako’s perception.

“You two made up recently, right?” She prompted. Her body leaned easily on the barre, a smile hinting at her lips.

Yuuri rose slowly. He nodded.

“I… I meant to talk to you about that.”

Her brows went up, waiting for elaboration.

Yuuri looked down to the floor, tapping his fingers against the barre. “I’m moving in with him.”

He let the words hang in the air and waited. In response: dead silence. When the lack of answer became too tense, he glanced up at his teacher.

She was considering him carefully, rubbing at her chin, mouth pursed.

“Ah, you’re a golddigger after all.”

“What!?” Yuuri jumped. “No, no, that’s not what I–”

Minako burst out laughing, the snack wrapper now crushed in her hand. She pointed at him with all the maturity of a twelve year old. “Look, at, your, face!”

Yuuri grimaced, his hands falling down to his sides. “Sensei, are you drunk?”

“Of course not!” She snapped, even while her eyes watered against her red cheeks. Yuuri stared at her. She had to take a few minutes to collect herself, and then relaxed again on the barre. “Look, you looked so nervous the moment I walked in, I knew there was something on your mind. But trust me, you living with your rich boyfriend is the least of my worries.”

Yuuri blinked. “Really? You’re okay with it? What if I’m not able to come here as often?”

“You’ll be living with a principle ballerina, right? This is a good opportunity for you.”

He nearly accepted that. This was already going over easier than he expected. Still… “Don’t you think there’s something off about the Nikiforovs?”

“There’s something off about every filthy rich family like them.” She snorted. “What you need to remember is this: stay on their good side. You’re there for Viktor. Keep it that way. Don’t go sticking your nose into any bad business.”

Yuuri was about to think ‘too late,’ but then he realized that this was very different from the similar advice Mari had given him. Even though Yuuri intended to be Viktor’s personal guard and play thing, that didn’t mean Yuuri had the right to go snooping into darker sides of the family.

“I’ll remember that,” he told Minako, truthfully. “Thank you.”

She patted his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Or would.”

With that, she left him to go back to her classes.

-/-/-

That evening, the Katsuki family met Viktor at the restaurant. Yuuri felt a moment of relief when he saw Viktor at the entrance. Viktor had clearly put in some thought into making sure the Katsuki family felt both catered to and comfortable. The restaurant of choice was a modest family-owned establishment, a place that drew much of its new patrons from the excited reviews of local newspapers. Additionally, Viktor was wearing a fairly casual outfit – a navy v-neck over a white polo and jeans. He could have been any man dallying on the street, and not some millionaire ready to steal Yuuri away.

Even so, Yuuri could feel Mari’s eyes on them both, like a chilled wind along his back. On Yuuri’s other side, providing a tangibly sunny disposition, was Toshiya. He always enjoyed the chance to eat out and try new foods. Besides, as far as Toshiya was concerned, Yuuri hadn’t experienced anything worse than a bad fight with a friend, but now they were all good. This left Yuuri’s dad feeling free to focus on the restaurant of choice more than anything else. When Viktor walked up to the family, Toshiya started with warm greetings and his excitement towards trying one of the more popular items on the menu.

Toshiya’s lack of reservation in social situations helped break some of the ice that lingered between everyone there. They went inside to sit at the corner table Viktor had reserved. Viktor and Yuuri sat down next to each other without thinking.

Hiroko, even while she listened politely to the men’s conversation, had noticed that seating choice. She kept checking Yuuri over her menu, her head tilted in study. Yuuri tried to focus on the menu and not the way her eyes flickered to the space between him and Viktor. It made him self-conscious, forcing him to check constantly to make sure that he and Viktor weren’t touching unsuitably. Yet his entire right side thrummed with the ache of those inches in distance. Was she waiting for them to do something?

When the waiter came to take their appetizer orders, Yuuri got distracted long enough that he settled back in his chair with his arm brushing Viktor’s. Still keeping up the conversation with Toshiya, Viktor offered Yuuri a quick smile and closer access to his arm.

Yuuri didn’t have a chance to correct the positions before his mother noticed. Hiroko’s eyes brightened, as a smile quirked up on her face. She found a segue into the matter at hand.

“Ah, Yuuri, I meant to ask, how was dinner at Viktor’s?”

“Oh,” Yuuri jumped slightly. He then coughed and replied in appropriate enthusiasm. “It was good. Very good. Viktor’s family was very welcoming.”

Hiroko’s smile squished into dimples.

“They are, aren’t they?” Toshiya agreed, still directing most of his attention on Viktor. “We’re still so very happy that your father invited us to your New Years Party. It was wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Viktor smiled at the older Katsuki. Under the table, his fingers were reaching for Yuuri’s. “My parents were happy that you could make it. You should know, my Papa thinks only the best of you, and my mothers love Yu-Topia over all other salons. They say that it’s the only place that treats them well not for their wallets, but for being like family.”

Hiroko’s cheeks went pink, and Toshiya absolutely lit up.

“Not at all! Really, your mothers are a delight!” Hiroko rushed out. “Always have been.”

She then placed her hands on the table, checking back on Yuuri in a flash, and continued, “And, of course, I remember you as a customer, Vicchan. You were always a treat.”

Viktor’s eyes went a little wide at that, taken back by both the sentiment and the old nickname. He turned his head towards Yuuri in age old fondness. Their arms were almost flush against each other now, their fingers slowly overlapping. “Well,” Viktor said. “I have to agree with my mothers. Yu-Topia always felt like extended family.”

Yuuri blushed, wanting to dip his head away, but he was still aware of his mother’s stare. All this meant something more to his mother than it did to him, he just knew it. Oh no, what was Hiroko thinking? Yuuri’s hands, in search of Viktor’s hold, froze in place. A second passed, and then Viktor had shot up straight in equal propriety. He backtracked, “Of course, I don’t mean to impose myself!”

Hiroko shook her head and held out her hands, palms up. Albeit confused, Viktor placed his hands in hers. Yuuri’s mind was now running a mile a minute, slowly putting the pieces together of his mother’s behavior.

“We’re more than happy to accept you into our family.” She said.

Things then clicked into place for Yuuri. Mari too, judging by how she was dumfounded with her water glass halfway to her lips. Viktor’s brows, however, set in question.

“Thank you,” he still replied.

Hiroko nodded. “I know you and Yuuri went through a rough patch recently, but Yuuri says that you make him happy. And I can see that he makes you happy too.”

“He does, yes.” Viktor emphasized. Beside him, Yuuri’s face flamed up. Was there a way he could telepathically slam the breaks on this conversation? Viktor was oblivious and continued to build on the sincere moment. “He always has.”

Toshiya was turned towards Viktor as well. “That’s why, we decided to give you two our blessing.”

A second passed. Yuuri’s face was reaching solar temperatures, as Viktor blinked in understanding.

“Oh! You knew?”

“Absolutely!” Hiroko winked. “Mother’s intuition, you know.”

Yuuri tried to catch Viktor’s attention by nudging him under the table. But it was too late. Hiroko tilted her head into her hand. “After all, the moment I saw you two dance together, I just knew that you’d propose to Yuuri one day.”

Mari nearly dropped her water. Both she and Yuuri had been picking up on the direction of the conversation but hearing it out loud still threw them for a loop. She now directed her incredulity onto Yuuri, silently demanding him to verify or correct their parents’ assumption. As if he could do that! Yuuri couldn’t even function well enough to effectively grab Viktor’s attention. He could only watch on in panic to see how Viktor would react.

Viktor’s eyes went wide, and then he let loose a joyous laugh. He let go of Hiroko’s hands to shake with laughter. It wasn’t a condescending laugh, but the merry sound of someone who was laughing for the simple sake of being so comfortable and surround by so much love. Hiroko and Toshiya weren’t offended by it and waited patiently for him to express of all himself.

“Actually, Yuuri proposed to me!”

Hiroko squeaked.

Viktor’s heart-shaped smile spread across his face, his eyes far off in recounting a fond memory. “It was so sudden! And he was so embarrassed that he didn’t have rings, but I didn’t care. I said yes right away!”

“Oh, that does sound like our Yuuri!” Hiroko beamed.

“Yes, Yuuri never ceases to surprise me. It’s one of the many things I love about him.” This Viktor said with eyes only for Yuuri, as he gathered up Yuuri’s hands to hold.

His open display of affection, right in front of the Katsuki parents, somehow brought Yuuri back down to reality. Yuuri swallowed down his embarrassment and anxiety.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t mention my intentions sooner.” He said to his parents. “Like Viktor said, I just kind of got excited.”

Mari had safely returned the glass to the table, but she was now caught between not believing a word Yuuri said, or dying to shove him out of his chair for being so irrational.

“None of that.” Hiroko responded. No one else seemed to notice Mari’s plight. “I’m just happy that you’re happy.”

“Even so,” Viktor cut in, “I promise that I’ll take care of Yuuri.”

The words, even though they were said to one effect, still rang true for Viktor and Yuuri’s true arrangement. Warmth blossomed in Yuuri’s chest. He trusted every word. He had to.

Yuuri squeezed Viktor’s hand back.

Once their food had arrived, Hiroko had taken over the conversation with stories of how she and Toshiya met and got engaged. Mari and Yuuri knew these stories intimately. Their parents had gone to the same small town high school, pining on each other for years, until they worked up the courage to drunkenly confess at a Christmas party. Toshiya had eventually proposed when he intended to start a business and wanted Hiroko by his side from there on out.

Mari relaxed with the familiarity. By the time the Katsuki parents revealed that they had already been thinking of wedding ideas of Yuuri and Viktor, Mari was comfortable enough to tease Yuuri. Apparently, she had known that their mother had been plotting Viktor’s adoption for years. Yuuri had no idea whether to feel ganged up on or supported.

For certain, this wasn’t where Yuuri expected the evening to go. Technically, his parents didn’t disprove. At the same time, engagement was a dramatic cover. The Katsuki family and Viktor split after dinner, even though Hiroko offered Yuuri go with Viktor. But Yuuri had too much on his mind. He had no idea how Viktor really felt about the idea of engagement – or even more so, marriage – and was too scared to ask.

(How ironic. Yuuri felt bold enough to offer himself as lifelong submissive, but not as a spouse.)

For now, he found himself staring at his mother from the backseat of their family car. He was relieved, yes, by her support, but he was also cautious and confused. She was the one who saw the confrontation between him and Viktor. Of all the people who could have rejected Viktor’s most recent advances on Yuuri, she’d be the most valid candidate.

“Hey, Mom?” Yuuri spoke up.

“Yes, dear?”  

“What… what makes you so ready to accept Viktor back so easily?”

Hiroko hummed. Yuuri could see her thoughtful, caring smile in the rearview mirror.

“Well, you forget, but I’ve known him longer than you.” She pointed out. “And sometimes I think you put him on a bit of a pedestal.”

Wait, what? That was the opposite of what Yuuri thought he was doing. He was the one who was trying to encourage Viktor to step off that pedestal.

“He’s a wonderful boy, yes.” Hiroko continued. “I’ve always cared for him. But I’ve also always known that Vicchan is a bit socially awkward.”

“Huh?” Yuuri blanked. Viktor as socially awkward? That was impossible. Yuuri was the recluse who stumbled over all his thoughts and feelings. Viktor was the charismatic one who could dazzle any crowd. That was just a given.

Oh, Yuuri then realized. He was doing it. He was putting Viktor on a pedestal.

In the front seat, Hiroko waited until Yuuri understood. Right, Yuuri now thought. It went all the way back to when they had first met. Yuuri nearly forgot this, but Viktor had started things out by _insulting_ Yuuri for being so shy. Yuuri had completely brushed it off because he thought Viktor was the coolest kid he ever met.

Yuuri fell back into his car seat, humbled.

“You say that he was scared of committing because his family’s business takes up so much of his time, correct?” His mother asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I accept that as his reason for not knowing how to talk to you about the relationship between you two. You see, I’ve always known that Vicchan doesn’t always know how to read people, and that he has a hard time of stopping to think things through before he says or does anything.” Hiroko chuckled. “It doesn’t help that you’re the type of person who keeps your heart to yourself, Yuuri.”

Yuuri ducked his head. Viktor had confessed to not realizing that Yuuri loved him as much as Viktor loved Yuuri. Looking back on it, Yuuri hadn't exactly been outright.

“But Vicchan has proven time and time again that he cares for you and wants to learn how to look after you. That’s more than a lot of people could say.”

“Oh.” And in Yuuri’s heart now, it made sense. Why both of them struggled to fit in growing up and how they found and befriended each other. For all of Yuuri and Viktor’s respective social awkwardness, they understood each other on a level most people didn’t.

No wonder it appeared to Hiroko, for years, like a match made in heaven.

"Thank you, Mom." Yuuri said, with all the meaning he could put into the words. 

-/-/-

When Yuuri arrived to work the next day, Phichit was right there at the door, hands on his hips.

“What’s this I hear about you leaving?” Phichit demanded. “And in one week?”

Yuuri did his best to maneuver around his friend so that he clock in. Phichit at least let Yuuri mark his punctuality, but he also hired himself as Yuuri’s new shadow. Yuuri did his best to start on his responsibilities. There wasn't anything to immediately grab his attention. Well.

To distract himself, he noticed and fixed his crooked nametag. Even after Yuuri purposely took four or five times to re-attach the nametag, Phichit remained.

“Okay,” Yuuri relented. “I’m moving.”

Phichit’s eyes went wide. He grabbed onto Yuuri’s shoulders in a panic. “Moving?! Where?!”

“Ah, don’t worry!” Yuuri jumped back from his friend’s hold, checking around to make sure they hadn’t disturbed any customers. For the most part, the shoppers continued as usual, except for one old lady looking at cat toys. She threw a questioning look their way.

Yuuri tried to return Phichit’s hands. “I’m not leaving El Valle.”

“Oh,” Phichit would not let go, but he held back from further assault. He tilted his head in thought. “Then, where are you–”

Yuuri recognized the exact moment the gears in Phichit’s head landed on the answer. He took an automatic step back. A good idea, because Phichit went up in sudden volume and octave.

“You’re moving in with Viktor, aren’t you!!” Phichit pulled Yuuri in for an attempt at a congratulatory hug. The cat toy woman was now inching dangerously close to reporting this behavior to a manager. Yuuri tossed an apologetic look her way before leading Phichit away from the public eye. On the way to the back room, Phichit continued the celebration.

“This is so great, Yuuri! I’m so happy you two are back together!”

Yuuri shrugged. “A little more than that, this time.”

Phichit locked onto that. He leaned forward with a wide-eyed smile. “Hmm??”

Yuuri hesitated. If the cover story worked for his family, and if its circumstances ran parallel enough to the truth, then Yuuri could use it for Phichit, right? Even if it didn’t make Yuuri feel any better for deceiving his loved ones.

“I… Viktor and I are engaged now.”

Phichit’s gasp was automatic and loud enough to break records. Before Yuuri could stop him, Phichit rushed back to the floor and yelled out, “My good friend is getting married!”

One customer flipped a can of food onto the floor in surprise, another person clapped, and cat lady peaked her head around an aisle to throw the boys a reproachful stare.

“Aaah no!” Yuuri freaked out, pushing Phichit right back into the break room. He then returned to the customers to apologize profusely. The one who had dropped the can was more amused than anything else, but the old woman was only appeased when Yuuri let her lecture him on proper work conduct for a good ten minutes. When Yuuri finally returned to Phichit, he found Phichit with his phone out.

“Oh, no, how many people did you tell?”

“Just Leo and Guang Hong.” Phichit responded, shameless. “Oh, this is so exciting! We should go on a double date to celebrate!”

“Huh? But who would you bring on the date? I thought you were interested in that Seung Gil guy.”

Phichit froze, now taking his turn to blush all the way up to his ears. “Ah, I am. About that… Seung Gil and I are together now.”

“What?!” Yuuri exclaimed. “How long? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well,” Phichit shifted back and forth on his feet, “You were so depressed about that break you had with Viktor. I didn’t want to make you feel any worse with good romance news in my life.”

Before Yuuri had a chance to beat himself up, Phichit was right there, patting his shoulder.

“Hey, don’t feel bad. I know for a fact that if I was dealing with some serious relationship drama, while you were getting all the loving, you’d do the same for me.”

Yuuri nodded, slowly. Phichit had a point. Absolutely, Yuuri would hold off on telling Phichit anything if he thought it would upset his usually cheerful friend.

Phichit’s patting turned to prodding. “So, about that double date?”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. I can bring it up to Viktor.” Though, it just occurred to Yuuri that Viktor and Phichit had never met before. Plus, Phichit would be bringing in someone Viktor had only heard of offhand in a couple stories. On that point, would someone as wary of strangers – as Seung Gil was – want a double date with the city’s richest heir?

“Great! Though, knowing how busy you and Viktor are, it’ll probably be awhile. Seung’s also got a crazy schedule.” Phichit shrugged, tapping away at his phone. “He gets picked on so much for being a rookie. His seniors give him all sorts of weird hours.”

“Rookie for what?” Yuuri asked, catching onto the new information.

“Oh, yeah, I haven’t told you! Seung graduated from the police academy this spring! That was one of the reasons why he was holding off on getting into a relationship. He’s super focused on his work. Isn’t that so cool?”

Yuuri’s heart stuttered and then dropped to his stomach.

“Yeah,” he managed to get out, “It is.”

“Uh huh.” Phichit grinned, not noticing Yuuri go pale. “He gets so passionate about it too! Like, I know you think he’s boring because he enjoys bird watching and statistics, but he cares so much about this city.”

Yuuri threw up a shaky thumbs up, doing his best to play the part of an excited wingman. “Your new boyfriend’s a cop. Hot.”

“I know.” Phichit sighed. “So, yeah, lemmie ask him about possible days off.”

“You get back to me on that, okay?” Yuuri said, already backing up. He had no intention of carrying through on this double date. “I’m going to get back to work before any of the customers say something to Ciao Ciao.”

Phichit let Yuuri go. Yuuri rushed back to his station and threw himself wholeheartedly into his job, his hands shaking. He tried to distract himself from his mind screaming about warnings of impending doom, but all the tasks on the table were too mindless. How did this become his life? Yuuri hadn’t even considered potential legal consequences of hanging around the Nikiforovs until now.

If Viktor – the _criminal_ – and Seung Gil – the _cop_ – ever met… no. Yuuri decided right then and there that those two never had to meet. The universe may think it funny to play these jokes on him, but Yuuri refused to laugh along.

This, Yuuri knew, he would have to get used to eventually. Minako told him to keep his nose out of things that didn’t need involve him. That didn’t mean he needed to be entirely careless or afraid. He would have to keep his wits about him.

Yuuri swallowed, concentrated, and imagined the mothers critiquing his posture, the vulnerability weighing on his body. He breathed out and stood up straighter. An image formed in his head, of Yuuri standing at Viktor’s side and intimidating their enemies. The image printed itself out through each limb, calming the shaking in his hands and the panic in his heart.

The anxiety fought to be heard, to be obsessed over. Yuuri refused to give it that privilege. Courage and strength flowed through him.

Things didn’t have to go wrong. Yuuri had made it this far. He could go even further. He would.

-/-/- 

According to schedule, a week later, Viktor showed up at Yu-Topia at eight in the morning. Yu-Topia was to open in an hour, so the Katsuki family and Yuuko were able to gather to see Yuuri off. They tried to help him bring his stuff downstairs, but there wasn’t much to bring.

Yuuri had with him one medium sized suitcase of clothes, his backpack of ballet and exercise gear, his laptop bag (which contained his Nintendo DS), a couple hangers of nice outfits, and some homemade Japanese snacks that Hiroko absolutely insisted he bring. Everything fit neatly in Viktor’s trunk, with room left over.

“We’re going to need to take you shopping.” Viktor shook his head when he closed the trunk. The fact that he was wearing his Gucci shades only enunciated the point. It was a moderately horrifying suggestion, since Yuuri had only been subjected to shopping under Viktor’s mothers before, and not Viktor himself. At least the mothers’ wildly varying fashion senses balanced out.

“That sounds like a fun idea!” Hiroko commented.

“You’ll have to take pictures of all the outfits you try on, okay?” Yuuko added. She then winked. “And if you go shopping for wedding tuxes, you have to bring me along.”

Yuuri rubbed at the back of his head. He glanced over at Viktor, wondering the best way to respond. Viktor noticed and swept over.

“Already forming an entourage for tux fitting?” He smiled, entirely lighthearted.

“Yeah. And by tradition, you can’t come.” Yuuri joked. He had done so for Yuuko’s benefit, thinking it a good way to uphold the cover. But something flashed in Viktor’s eyes. It was unreadable and had Yuuri dropping the subject like a hot coal.

Yuuri continued his farewells with his family. It was weird, since it wasn’t a permanent good bye, but everyone was still ambiguous on how long it’d be until Yuuri visited from across town.

He and Viktor then climbed into the car and headed off. The car exited onto the interstate that crossed through the city, headed northwest, before either of them said anything.

“Do you want to be engaged?” Viktor asked, suddenly but softly. “Not just as a cover?”

Yuuri bit his lip. Did he want to? Absolutely. “Is that allowed? For a pet?”

“I don’t know.” Viktor stared out at the road. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it. Traditionally, we’d take charge of everything about a pet, including finances. It doesn’t suit the equality of marriage.”

“Oh, okay.” Yuuri turned to look out the window. An abrupt silence fell over them. He felt Viktor squeeze his hand, so he looked back.

“But we’re different.” Viktor said, emphasizing the fact that he wasn’t done speaking. “If you want it, we’ll figure out a way.”

That was a nice sentiment. Still, Yuuri couldn’t help but to notice that Viktor had said nothing of wanting an actual marriage himself, just that he’d arrange things if Yuuri wanted it. Yuuri already committed to one arrangement. He couldn’t have his cake and eat it too.

Yuuri said nothing else for the rest of the drive. Instead, he let Viktor chatter on about whatever Viktor was excited about. Mostly, Viktor was excited about Yuuri living with him. He had so many ideas of taking Yuuri shopping, getting to watch Yuuri train with the mothers, and just not being miles apart anymore.

Truly, without having to be said, the two knew to their cores that Yuuri being Viktor’s pet would fill that need of theirs to be constantly be around each other. Their hands only untwined for a moment to get out of the car, and then they were right by each other’s sides. A house staffer came to pick up Yuuri’s belongings, to take to his room ahead of him. Just as before, Mr. Altin took the Cadillac to the garage.

Third time was the charm in going to the Nikiforov Estate. This time, Yuuri had to wrap his head around the fact that not only did city king Roman Nikiforov _and_ childhood friend turned lover Viktor lived here, Yuuri was to live here now too. He looked up at the mansion, his grip on Viktor tightening as he needed to be grounded in reality.

There was a flash of panic when Viktor pulled his hand away, but then just as immediately, Viktor put that arm around Yuuri’s shoulder to pull Yuuri in flush against him. He placed a supportive kiss on the side of Yuuri’s forehead. Yuuri relaxed into the touch.

Yakov was there at the front door, waiting for them as impatiently as ever. Much to Yuuri and Viktor’s reluctance, Yakov shooed Viktor off so that he could show Yuuri to his room.

“The boy’s going to need a chance to settle in before you accost him again!” Yakov claimed, before guiding Yuuri upstairs at a brisk pace. It was better that Yuuri wasn’t in charge of carrying his own stuff, otherwise, he would have struggled to keep up with the butler.

Yuuri was to have one of the second floor guest rooms. Yakov somewhat apologized for the fact the Yuuri wasn’t given a suite, to which Yuuri waved off as perfectly fine. The ‘modest’ guest room was three times the size of his bedroom back home.

He looked to the side to see his bags beside the door, but the clothes on hangers and snacks were not there. Most likely put away in appropriate locations. The staff were so quick!

The room was long, with a sitting area between the door and the queen sized bed. A dresser and full length mirror sat to the left of the bed, while doors to the closet and bathroom were on the right wall. The room had a bluegreen and gold theme to it, with the chairs and center table having a gold gilt, and the corners of the crown molding having similar gold plated designs. Grand windows, overlooking the ocean, let in light on either side of the bed.

Yuuri didn’t miss the vase of lilies on the center table. Giddily, he set about unpacking. Sure enough, the nice clothes were already hung up in the walk-in closet. The snacks had been placed on the bedside stand, right next to a pitcher of water.

After about ten minutes, there was a knock at his door. Yuuri paused in his task, to go over to the door and let Lilia into the room. She had a manila folder of papers in one hand. With the other hand, she instructed Yuuri to sit with her in the gold chairs.

“I had a schedule made out for you.” She said, as both greeter and conversation starter. She pulled one of the papers out of the folder and thrusted it at him. “I have hired tutors for both your Russian and etiquette lessons. However, I will be handling all your physical training from here on out.”

Yuuri looked over the schedule. It was printed in boxes by each day of the week – very organized. Every morning he would have basic warm-ups under Lilia. At eleven he would go to his lesson of the day – Russian on Mondays and Fridays, etiquette on Tuesdays and Thursdays, sex education on Wednesdays. Yuuri did his best not to openly react to that last one.

Much to his surprise, Yuuri had Saturdays and Sundays off. Additionally, nothing was scheduled for weekday nights. When he asked about it, Lilia didn’t look up from the other papers, which she was now shuffling through.

“Weekday nights are open because you will still be joining Lyuba, Mei, and Nina for their off-site training. On your free nights, I still expect you to find something useful. As for the weekends… Vitya insisted that you be allowed time off to maintain your social life. Shamil will be your driver to anywhere you’d like to go.” She explained, impassively. Shamil Altin the chauffer, Yuuri remembered. Lilia selected one of the papers she held and continued. “On Sunday morning, the Nikiforovs and I attend church. It is up to you whether you’d like to join. If not, you can help Mei go over the books, or help Yakov maintain house.”

“Yakov doesn’t go to church with you?” Yuuri never knew that Viktor’s family went to church. Viktor had mentioned his family being Eastern Orthodox, but Yuuri couldn’t imagine them sitting in a pulpit.

“Yakov’s Sabbath is on Saturday. Which is also his day off.” Lilia answered. “If you have any needs, go to Lyubov. She is head of house staff in Yakov’s absence.”

She then handed Yuuri the next paper. “I will be modeling our Wednesday lessons after what you don’t know and what you think you know. Fill this out.”

Yuuri took an offered pen and looked down at a questionnaire, which took up both sides of the paper. Well, looks like he was going to hit the ground running.

Yet if it wasn’t the nature of the questions that had him blushing, it was the fact that he was now confronted with just how inexperienced he was. He shifted back and forth with each question he could only do his best to answer.

Questions included beauties such as…

‘How many sexual partners have you had?’ One. Sort of.

‘List all sexual positions you know. Favored position?’ Well, there’s missionary, riding?, all fours??, 69… uh, there were others? Maybe missionary was his favorite?

‘Have you ever used sex toys before? If so, list them.’ Big old N/A.

… and so on and so forth.

Right. Yuuri had clearly made an impulse decision. Why not offer to be a sex slave when he barely knew how sex worked past American sex ed courses? Sure, he had watched porn before – out of curiosity – but it hadn’t done much for him. He wasn’t attracted to anyone in the videos, and besides, their fake intimacy had only turned him off right away. In fact, far as Yuuri could remember, Viktor was the only one who had ever turned him on.

He gave back the questionnaire to Lilia, pointedly not looking her in the eye. She read over his scrawled out answers with barely a change of color to her face. Though, he watched her brows go up in tired astonishment.

“I see.” She deadpanned. “Well, I’ve never trained someone from such a basic level, but I will do my best to customize your lessons accordingly.”

“Ah, right.” Yuuri tried not to crumple on the spot. “I’m sure the others knew the answers?”

Lilia’s brows dropped, as if trying to understand what the hell Yuuri was rambling about. “The others did not need to answer such questions.”

Okay, Yuuri was ready to hide under a rock and die. Lilia had every reason to throw him out right now. She was right. He was not ready for this role. Not even close.

He had to remind himself, above all else, Viktor wanted him. Even if Viktor knew full well how inexperienced Yuuri was, he still wanted him. Wanted to go at the pace Yuuri was most comfortable with.

Lilia steamrolled through, not taking Yuuri’s worries even slightly into account. She presented the last of the papers. “These are the rules you will be expected to follow while in this house. It is crucial that you obey these rules _at all times_. Breaking a rule could result in grievous harm or even death. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuri stiffened, nearly crumpling the papers in his hand.

“Good,” she stood. “We have brunch prepared, to be served in about fifteen minutes. You will meet the house then, so I expect you to be presentable.”

Lilia then left the room, leaving Yuuri to will his heart to stop pounding. He chanted to himself that this was his decision. He had anticipated an intense training period – it was what he needed, after all. Before he took on an incredible demanding and self-sacrificing position, he had to be pushed to his absolute limits, and then even beyond that.

Yuuri stood, firm and reassured. He could do this.

He spent a few minutes finishing up his unpacking, storing the now empty suitcase in the closet. Once he was washed up and changed clothes into something less appropriate for moving and more appropriate for a meal with an estate, he checked the time. He had a few minutes, which he used to go over the rules of the house.

Surprisingly, there weren’t that many rules, and most of them made sense. Don’t disturb Roman when his office door was closed. Don’t invite anyone over without seeking permission from Roman at least 24 hours in advanced. Pictures of the gardens and guest receiving areas of the house were permissible, but no where else. Yuuri understood each of these as just simple common sense and respect.

The last two, however, made Yuuri pause. They were underlined.  

'Do not enter the east wing of the basement without permission. 

Court with Roman in the throne room is by invitation or summons only.'

Viktor hadn’t included a basement in the tour. Yuuri didn’t even realize there was a basement – much less a throne room! Wow, Yuuri had no idea just how far the Nikiforovs liked to take this monarchy analogy.

Just like when child Yuuri was told that he wasn’t allowed to stay at the ballet studio past eight, adult Yuuri now thrummed with curiosity. What was in the east wing of the basement? Were there dungeons? Torture chambers? This was a criminal family, after all.

Yuuri was lost in thought as he made his way downstairs to the breakfast room. It didn’t help that he didn’t entirely remember where it was, and he had to peek into a few rooms to find it.

He knew he had the right room when he came to the one that had, as Lilia said, the entire household standing in wait. Yuuri estimated about twenty five people. While the breakfast room was much larger than the Katsuki dining area – which was just a table on the kitchen side of the apartment – it was smaller than the dining room. With everyone in the house crammed into the space, it appeared quite crowded. The minor house staff had to line up along the walls to allow space for everyone else.

The first person Yuuri spotted was Viktor. He was standing with his parents. Hovering behind his mothers were three women Yuuri had never seen before. These women didn’t wear any uniform like the maids or groundskeepers; they appeared about the same age as the mothers – so around fifty years old.

There were people Yuuri did recognize. Lilia and Yakov stood near the family, while Nikolai Plisetsky, Alexie Babichev, Shamil Altin, and an unfamiliar Mediterranean man stood a bit off towards the kitchen door, conversing with each other. Yuuri looked to the other side of the room to notice the bartender from the party. Chris, Yuuri remembered with pleasant surprise. He was standing with house staffs’ kids: Mila, Otabek, and a boy and girl who resembled the Mediterranean man.

Yuri P Nikiforov was also standing with the kids of the room, a flute of orange juice in hand. Or was it a Mimosa? Yuuri felt like he’d always be wondering if the drinks Yuri had were alcoholic or not.

In the center of the room, the table was filled with a buffet of mouthwatering breakfast, snack, and light lunch foods. The chairs had been removed from the table and were now set along the walls, next to additional chairs likely brought in from other rooms.

Viktor met Yuuri at the threshold of the room. He wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s waist. 

“Allow me to introduce you to everyone.” Viktor said, bringing Yuuri first over to his mothers.

Lyuba, Mei, and Nina made room to introduce the three women behind them as their attendants. They explained that the reason Yuuri never met them before was because the attendants functioned more so as chambermaids than secretaries. However, if Yuuri was to become a pet, Mei added, he would also hire an attendant.

The attendant women were comely, polite, and somehow faded more into the background than the mothers did around Roman. Yuuri decided he wasn’t all too thrilled with the idea of someone wordlessly following and cleaning up after him. But he greeted the attendants nevertheless, and they smiled and welcomed him to the house.

Viktor then took him over to where the head chef and companions stood. They adjourned their conversation as Yuuri and Viktor approached, to also greet them. Viktor gestured, “You know Nikolai,”

“Pleased to meet you again,” Yuuri offered. Nikolai smiled.

“You as well. I’ve heard quite a bit about you from my grandsons.” Nikolai reached out to shake Yuuri’s hand. “We’re pleased to have you here.”

Grandsons? Yuuri noticed. Geez, what was Yuri saying about him? Was the kid still complaining about the chloroform not working?

“Thank you,” Yuuri still remembered to say.

Viktor motioned to the others Yuuri knew: Babichev and Altin. Yuuri took turns shaking their hands. He now had a closer look at Shamil Altin and noticed the man’s neat peppered beard and loose red kufi cap. The chauffer had an easy, cheeky smile.

“And this,” Viktor motioned to the other man, “Is Antonio Crispino. He is the head of grounds.”

Antonio was likely a good thirty or so years younger than Nikolai, but his deep scowl and the crowfeet around his eyes had him seem much older. Otherwise, he was a handsome man, with warm sun-tanned skin and flecked blue-brown eyes so warm in color they almost seemed indigo.

“Very nice to meet you.” Yuuri held his hand up for a shake. Antonio met the shake with a gruff hug and kiss on Yuuri’s cheek, completely throwing Yuuri off.

Viktor laughed at Yuuri’s reaction.

“Don’t worry, Antonio is much more approachable when he’s drunk.”

“Fuck off,” Antonio shot back at Viktor, which had Yuuri’s eyes widening further. He didn’t realize that staff were allowed to talk to Viktor like that. Yakov was on thing, since Viktor proclaimed him a second father. Antonio though? “Like you’re one to talk, you snotty sap.”

Viktor patted Antonio on the shoulder. “At least I don’t try to sing when drunk.”

Antonio shrugged off Viktor’s hand. “No. Worse. You try to dance.”

Viktor laughed again, unaffected. He then moved Yuuri to the other side of the room, where there were those closer in age to him. The house kids greeted Yuuri excitedly – well, Yuri didn’t outright insult him, which counted for something. Mila and the girl Yuuri didn’t know rushed forward to meet him.

“I’m Sara,” the dark haired girl said, holding Yuuri’s hands. “That’s my twin brother, Michele. You just met our dad, Antonio. We sort of work under him on the grounds.”

Yuuri didn’t miss the way that Michele glared at the contact between him and Sara, even if Sara was the one who initiated it, and Viktor was literally holding onto Yuuri. The resemblance between Michele and his father was eerily striking.

Mila offered a fist bump instead of an overly affectionate handshake. Otabek nodded.

“And,” Viktor said, “Meet Chris!”

Chris’ eyes were sparkling upon seeing the north bank kid again. He had been standing closest to the corner, but now stepped around the teenagers.

“Ma chérie, quite wonderful to see you again.” Chris took his turn to gather up Yuuri’s hands, but then he also placed a kiss on one. Yuuri shot a nervous glance at Viktor, to look for any possessive reaction. The hand around his waist never laxed or tightened.

“You’ve met before?” Viktor tilted his head.

“Y-yes,” Yuuri stammered out, finding his feigned polite confidence coming undone under Chris’ imploring state. “At the New Years party.”

“Ah, right! I forgot.” Viktor smiled innocently. “I had wondered who was sneaking you those drinks, Yuuri.”

“And we’ll be seeing much more of each other, from here on out.” Chris said, still not taking his eyes off Yuuri, or letting go of his hands. Was any of this allowed? Did any of the staff have respect for Viktor’s status? Or Viktor’s possessions?

(Okay, Viktor didn’t own Yuuri… yet. But still.)

“Chris will be your etiquette tutor.” Viktor explained, when Chris decided to be no less cryptically flirtatious. When Yuuri’s disbelief showed, Chris chuckled.

“I didn’t become employed to the Nikiforovs at nineteen by just my good looks alone.” He said, batting his eyes. “I fluently speak four languages and can charm anyone of any social status.”

“Just as you’re trying to charm my future pet now?” Viktor quipped.

Chris threw a caught puppy look at Viktor before releasing Yuuri’s hands. “Ah, but I just can’t help myself. You have yourself quite the catch here, Viktor.”

“Yes, I know.” Viktor pulled Yuuri in closer.

“Well,” Chris smiled back at Yuuri, this time the flirty look being replaced by genuine eyes and a sincere tilt of his head. It was reminiscent of an older brother type figure. “If you ever need me outside of lessons, then you can most likely find me at the bar.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said, again finding himself inexplicably drawn in by Chris. He decided it would be great to learn how to exude any of that charisma himself.

Next, Viktor introduced Yuuri to the rest of the house staff by name. Yuuri was quite impressed by how respectful Viktor was of the maids who could have just been left in the background. He pronounced their names correctly and with great care. It was a little weird for them to recognize Yuuri better than he recognized them – although, some of the faces appeared familiar. Yuuri made a note to himself to memorize all the staff names as well.

He ran the names through his head… Evelyne, Carlo, Lien, Håkon, Bridget, Joaquín, Phuc… what a diverse line up.

But of course. Yuuri felt a little dumb for just noticing it, but when he looked around the room again, he noticed that almost everyone there was either an immigrant or the child of an immigrant. Overall, the room felt comfortable, with family and staff alike enjoying each other’s company. It put Yuuri more at ease, being around people with shared experiences as him and who seemed to like him.

Roman proposed a Champagne toast before they all ate. They were marking two occasions. Yuri would be going back to that famed boarding school in just a couple days, while Yuuri was joining the household.

Yuri Plisetsky Nikiforov did not look amused by the idea of Yuuri Katuski potentially replacing him. He glared at Yuuri throughout brunch. But in the end, that was the only blip of the event. A couple glasses of Champagne had Yuuri happily putting his sharp morning with Lilia out of his mind. Sure, he’d likely be thrown into one hell of a training period, but for now he was happy to lean against Viktor and laugh at people’s silly jokes.

-/-/-

The first Monday morning, at six o’clock on the dot, Yuuri jolted from bed by a pounding at his door. His morning call was Lilia screaming at him that he was supposed to be ready to go _by_ six, not after.

Before Yuuri even had the time to completely wake up or contemplate his life choices, Lilia had ordered him outside and around the house to run laps. It was the first time Yuuri was forced to conceptualize just how large the building was. Three laps around it was a full mile.

Lilia timed him, snapping at him whenever she saw him fall out of pace or run ‘sloppily.’ And then, while Yuuri was still half-asleep and additionally half-dead, she had him go through sets of crunches, push-ups, lunges, or whatever else came to her mind. It wasn’t until about seven thirty or eight before he was released to have breakfast.

Most unfortunately, Viktor had already had breakfast by then, so Yuuri found himself alone in the breakfast room. One positive that he clung to, however, was that he was given sufficient time to eat, shower, and rest a little before he was carted off to his lesson of the day. He _needed_ that rest.

Yuuri’s Russian tutor must have come from the same school of no-nonsense as Lilia. As soon as Yuuri was taught a word or grammar pattern, Mr. Ivanov would start using it in his casual speech with Yuuri, expecting Yuuri to keep up. Also, since Yuuri had stupidly tried to demonstrate the basics phrases that he already knew, Mr. Ivanov took off at a Level 2, when truthfully Yuuri was still catching up at Level 1.

In those here and there moments Yuuri could understand what the hell Mr. Ivanov was saying, it was admittedly an effective teaching method. The other half of the time, however, Yuuri learned very quick that Google and Youtube were his new best friends.

Contrasting that, on Tuesday, etiquette lessons with Chris weren’t as bad. In fact, Yuuri learned to look forward to these lessons as a respite from the snapping and grumbling of his other two teachers. Not to be confused, Chris wasn’t a lenient teacher. He had expectations that had to be met. Yet he was understanding. Without needing to ask too many questions, Chris picked up on what Yuuri knew already on a subject and met Yuuri there.

It was extra helpful that Chris could relate some of his teachings to the customs that Yuuri grew up with. As Yuuri learned, Chris had taken it upon himself to learn the mannerisms of other cultures. That open minded, multi-culturalism was intriguing to work under. 

Chris also didn’t flirt as much as Yuuri expected. Well, sure, he flirted, but he was more so focused on whatever he was teaching Yuuri. The two got a lot done during their lessons.

Wednesdays… Wednesdays were shaping up to be the most unusual and mildly unsettling thing Yuuri had ever known. There was no touching between teacher and student. It was just the content, Yuuri thought, that had him squirming like a middle schooler. Though, he had to wonder if it would be different if it _weren’t_ an impatient sixty year old woman teaching him about the erogenous zones or how exactly an erection worked.

Worse yet, Lilia insisted on holding these lessons in his room. Yuuri had no idea, when she left him, if she expected him to independently review the lesson. Because she never gave him such a command, he happily decided to skip that extra work.

(Little, playful thoughts had him knowing that if it were with Viktor, he’d be happy to practice whatever he learned. But these thoughts usually had him blushing too hard to pursue.)

Once the lesson was over around two thirty in the afternoon, Yuuri went to the breakfast room to have lunch. He ate that meal alone too. Yuuri tried not to be too disappointed. He knew that he’d be focused on training. Still, he was living in his boyfriend’s house. Shouldn’t he be seeing Viktor more often?

Clearly not. Before Yuuri could see about searching the house for a friendly face, Lilia was grabbing him from lunch and taking him to the second floor gym for afternoon training. Some afternoons she had him weight training, others he was at the punching bag, and still others she set him up in the studio to go through ballet routines.

And that was just the warm up. Lilia then had Yuuri go over forms and sparring matches until he sweated through his clothes and was red in the face. But instead of focusing on strength, she expected him to develop a style. It wasn’t good enough for him to mimic the way he’d seen the mothers fight. He had to have his own graceful, recognizable way of moving. And, no, Lilia insisted, clumsy oaf did not count for a style.

Though, happily, Nina and Lilia had both mentioned to Yuuri that once he developed a style, he’d be able to choose his own weapon. Mei favored guns, Nina liked her knives, and Lyuba depended mostly on hand-to-hand combat. While Yuuri was pretty good at hand-to-hand, he had been quietly enjoying learning how to handle blades. There was something about having such a sharp object as an extension of himself, being used in a dance of sorts, that he enjoyed beyond words. Maybe he’d take up a type of sword.

So, Yuuri threw his entire self in those fighting lessons. Once those grueling hours had passed, he was let go for another shower. He had to dress up for dinner. The first evening, Yuuri had fumbled over the buttons on his shirt in excitement. Family dinner meant seeing Viktor.

He could have sung when he was sat to Viktor’s right, instead of Roman’s. All he wanted to do was talk about his day and ask about Viktor’s day. Maybe even hold hands, if they could. Just a reminder and reassurance from the person he was doing all this for – besides himself.

But Viktor was just as tired as Yuuri by dinner. The two had their best attempt at a conversation, while Yuuri tried not to let Roman’s business tinged conversation lull him to sleep in his soup bowl. Before Yuuri knew it, dinner was over, and he and Viktor had only managed to snatch a few moments of holding onto each other in the hall before Lilia came and harrumphed at Yuuri that the mothers were headed out to train.

The women and Yuuri hadn’t even arrived to their site that night – a mixed martial arts dojo – before everyone there realized that Yuuri could hardly call forth the energy to fight, much less defend himself. He stubbornly insisted on joining a sparring match at first, and earned a large, pretty bruise on his side for his efforts. The mothers relegated him to doing core balancing yoga for the rest of the night. 

The second night, Yuuri didn’t feel like being around anyone, so he retreated to the library. He pulled a few Chinese books and did his best to see what he could understand. Not much. He had grown up speaking Japanese, sure, but his parents didn’t expect him to know anything beyond an intermediate level of kanji.

Hours later, around ten, a house staff member – Lien? Yuuri thought blearily – found Yuuri slumped over one of these books. She woke Yuuri up to usher him to bed. Yuuri barely remembered or registered moving to his room. All he knew was that he fell asleep in the library, and then woke up to his alarm at 5:30 AM, to start the whole routine over again.

-/-/-

Yuuri’s first Saturday was a celebrated occasion. He slept in past six and then danced a little around his room while getting ready. In a small disappointment, he had learned that Phichit was busy with family this weekend. At the same time, Yuuri didn’t entirely mind. He didn’t want Phichit seeing him in a haggard state when Yuuri was supposed to be the living the life at his rich fiancé’s house.

That was all made up for when Yuuri got downstairs to discover that Viktor hadn’t finished breakfast yet. Viktor lit up when Yuuri entered the room. In the closer casualness of the breakfast room, the two scooted their chairs right up to each other, so that their thighs touched. Yuuri started on his breakfast, while Viktor requested another cup of coffee, just so that he had the excuse to stay longer with Yuuri.

Viktor asked after Yuuri’s plans for the day. Yuuri shrugged and said he was thinking about going to Minako’s studio in the afternoon. Nothing against the Nikiforov house studio – Yuuri was just feeling a little stir crazy.

“Why don’t you follow me around this morning?” Viktor offered. “I’m sure Lilia would appreciate you learning more about my daily routine. Usually its just desk work… but I have a meeting at the site office today.”

Yuuri agreed to the idea right away.

Once the two figured out how to detach themselves from the table and each other, Viktor went upstairs to his study to collect his tablet and check for messages on his office phone. The meeting he had that day wasn’t for another couple hours, so he offered to invite Yuuri to the throne room. Yuuri did his best not to jump in response. He had yet to figure out the east side of the basement.

(When he ran morning laps around the house, he had found an entrance to the basement from the back deck, but that entrance led to the west side of the basement.)

Viktor took Yuuri down the indoor stairs to the basement. Yuuri had been downstairs now to the west side. During the second lesson on Thursday, Chris took him to show off the bar, home theater, and other entertainment amenities. Such a tour was necessary because Yuuri was going to learn more about spirits and bartending, as part of his needed social skills.

The basement in general was dimmer than the rest of the house, with most walls being either dark woods or crimson. The bar, a long counter visible from the stairwell, had a clean concrete floor and was lit by neon bars crowning the walls.

Viktor took Yuuri down a red wallpaper hallway, adjacent to the bar. This hallway only had closets and a half bath – or so Yuuri thought. His jaw dropped when Viktor revealed a hidden door in the wall. Past this hidden door was a receiving room of sorts, with a couch and mini bar. A regular, yet grandly designed, door led the way to the throne room itself. A short flight of steps led down to the head of the throne room, on the stage right side behind the throne itself. There were a similar set of stairs and door on the stage left side. Yuuri spotted another door on the other side of the room.

The throne room had high ceilings and was about half the length of the ballroom that was right above it. Think, imposing columns framed the center aisle of the room. Yuuri had been expecting a design like the rest of the house, to continue the palace theme. Instead, the walls, floor, and ceiling were all charcoal gray, with industrial style chandeliers hanging from the open ceiling. A platform held the throne above the rest of the room. The throne did appear like any other, with red cushions and a tall back.

Roman sat on the throne, with his harem standing around it. Yuuri couldn’t help but to stare. This was the first time he had ever seen the women not hold subservient postures around Roman. Instead, they lounged against the chair, looking down on everyone in the room. Their carefree poses, matched with deadly observant eyes, were absolutely enthralling.

Any other time, people were meant to look at Roman and marvel at his magnetic draw and influence, that three beautiful, talented women would follow him around anywhere he went. Now, the women had slipped into their fatale roles, giving anyone the impression that Roman was backed by an entire army, not just three ladies.

Yuuri took a place next to Viktor’s designated seat and watched with great enthusiasm.

During that hour, Roman held court with a few different people. He presided over a territory dispute between two of his dealers. Within minutes he had defined the lines on the map, to each dealers’ satisfaction, and then sent them on their way. Next, he granted money to one of his street guards so that they could pay their brother’s bail. Apparently, the brother had gotten arrested for trying to beat their little sister’s abuser to death. Roman, upon hearing this, threw in extra funds to hire a good lawyer.

Around the time Viktor checked his watch and realized it was time to leave, Roman was in the middle of hearing a complaint about unapproved gang activity in the inner-city.

Yuuri was a little reluctant to leave. Viktor seemed to think that court that day was rather mundane, just the same old, but it was entirely new to Yuuri.

On the ride over to the harbor office, Yuuri was full of questions about how the drug territories worked, and similar topics. Viktor answered each question with patience and amusement.

At the gate to the parking garage, the security guard recognized Viktor without him even needing to present identification. Viktor received a warm wave and a ‘go right ahead.’ At first, Yuuri was worried that the employees might resent Viktor, or even not take him seriously, for having such a flashy car. Yet once inside the garage, Yuuri noticed all sorts of Mercedes, BMWs, and Pontiacs, all mixed with standard Chevys and Toyotas. It was reassuring to see that wages weren’t skimped.

The docks that the Nikiforovs owned were on the southern east coast of Lyon’s Bay. The entire shipping terminal was a mile in length, which was almost a third of that coastline. North of that, near the base of the bay, were dry docks for ship repair and building – these were owned by a partner company to the Nikiforovs. On Lyon’s Peninsula itself was the military base, so the west of the bay were Navy docking points. More private and public docks were lined along El Valle’s main coast, just past the tip of Lyon Peninsula.

Of course, before Anna Nikiforov showed up and turned El Valle into a golden city, the valley was only known for being a midway train stop, and for the military base that was built earlier in the twentieth century. This meant that the harbor was the most developed area of the city.

All trading vessels came through the Nikiforov ship terminal. The main train yard of the city was a quarter mile off from the harbor offices. When Yuuri got out of the car, even from inside the parking garage, he was surrounded by the sounds of machinery, vehicles, and trains. The air smelled of a startling mixture of salt and steel. When Yuuri looked out along the harbor, there were shipping containers far as the eye could see, and a lot of movement. Yard cranes moved up and down the wide rows of shipping containers, trucks moving in and out, a stacking crane filling a cargo ship.

It was such an expansive business! Yuuri almost couldn’t believe that a single family founded and oversaw such a large place. At the same time, he understood why Viktor was so busy all the time.

Yuuri wasn’t exposed to all the sights and sounds for too long before Viktor hurriedly led him into the main office building. They used a skywalk linking the upper floor of the parking garage with the second floor of the building. As they made their way to the conference rooms, Viktor explained that he was there to meet with representatives of a partner company. The company in question, JLK, was an international cargo company that docked in their terminal.

There wasn’t any important business on the table – the cargo company just wanted to meet Viktor and establish goals for their continued partnership in the future. When the two were right down the hall from the conference room, a middle aged black woman walked out of an office and right up to Viktor, even as she stared down at her phone. She wore a red skirt suit, and her round cheeks and glasses framed a wide-set face. Her long, relaxed ponytail swished as she marched down the hall to them.

“Are they here yet?” Viktor asked her.

“They called me to say that they’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.” The woman replied as she stopped before them. “I’ve already set out some tea and coffee in the conference room, and you should have received my email on the vision statements…” she squinted at her phone, “Ah, yes, you did reply.”

The woman did not seem to acknowledge Yuuri’s presence. That was fine. He had nothing to contribute in this exchange and was more than content to admire the quick pace of it all. Viktor might also think this stuff mundane, but to Yuuri, he was just impressed. Meanwhile, Yuuri did his best to exhibit proper posture and stay modestly as Viktor’s shadow.

“I would still like your opinion on which angle I should present.” Viktor said.

The woman had paused a moment to read Viktor’s email, and then adjusted her glasses with a nod, “I agree with using the third statement. JLK are planners, not all too caught up on the present. You should play your strategic side. Make them take you seriously because you’re always one step ahead of anyone else.”

“Yes,” Viktor smiled. “That’s perfect. And do you have the record of our recent adjustments to the new trade policies?”

“Already added to the packets.” She answered.

“Which are…”

“Available in the conference room.”

“Wonderful. Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Viktor said with ease.

At that, she tapped something on her phone with finality, and looked up. Some sort of retort died on her lips when she noticed Yuuri standing right behind Viktor. “Oh. Hello. I don’t think I’ve met you before.”

Viktor lit right up upon the chance of introducing Yuuri to someone. He brought Yuuri up closer. “You haven’t. Not officially at least. Claire, this is Yuuri Katsuki. Yuuri, Claire Ocwinyo. She’s our senior coordinator. And she’s the smartest person I know… save for Mama Mei, of course.”

Claire ducked her head. “You’re too kind. I have yet to beat Mei at Go.” She then held a hand up, “And don’t say anything about my record on Western chess. You _know_ Mei’s opinions on which one is the best evaluation of creativity and strategy.”

Viktor chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Yuuri reached forward. “Very nice to meet you.”

When Claire shook his hand, Viktor stage whispered to Yuuri, “don’t tell her this, but I plan on making her the VP once I inherit the company.”

Claire did hear Viktor’s theatrical attempt at whispering; she huffed and shook her head. Once she adjusted her glasses again, she took a second look at Yuuri.

“Wait, I know you.” She said. “You’re the one Viktor danced with at the New Years party.”

A bit surprised that she remembered his face – even while he was now wearing glasses and his usual mop of messy hair – Yuuri nodded with a bit of pink to his face. Claire now turned on Viktor. “So… is this your new beau that I’ve heard so much about? The one you’re actually serious about?”

“Yes,” Viktor replied, proudly. “Yuuri is currently vying to be my pet. That’s why he’s following me around today.”

“Ah,” Claire shifted into a look of amused exasperation, as if this was a totally normal occurrence in the office. “I didn’t think you had any interest in that kind of thing.”

“I have interest in Yuuri.”

Claire side eyed Yuuri. “Well,” she decided. “He is cute.”

Before Yuuri could react, she laughed. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m not interested. I swing for the other team.”

Viktor shook his head. “Yes, thank you for your assistance and your opinion. Would you like to check if the reps are here yet?”

Claire rolled her eyes before agreeing to leave. She tossed a ‘don’t be late’ over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner of the hall. Once she was gone and assuredly out of earshot, Viktor leaned down to talk to Yuuri in a low, confidential tone.

“Just to let you know, Claire does not know or have anything to do with the underground side of the family business. She has a clean record and we intend to keep it that way. Especially since we have yet to find someone who could fill her role as effectively as she does.”

Yuuri frowned. “But she knows about the pet thing?”

Viktor had clearly anticipated that question. “Anyone who’s close enough to our family knows about the pet thing. It’s a hard thing to hide or excuse. As far as civilians are concerned, my mothers are a groupie harem of sorts for my Pa. We just write it off as that weird thing we do as a rich family.”

“Oh.” Yuuri could understand that. After all, he now knew that the mothers behaved the same around Roman whether they were in private or at a great public event. “So that’s how people will see me?”

“Yes. We do our best to keep the more sexual themes out of people’s faces – for example, the collars are designed to look like flashy jewelry. Whenever people ask, my mothers imply that Papa just likes to gift them with fancy things.”

“Like a sugar daddy?” Yuuri bit his lip to keep back a snort.

Viktor’s brow quirked, his smile now playful. “Exactly. We let the public draw their own conclusions.”

Just then, Viktor’s phone buzzed. He checked it to see a text saying that the representatives had arrived. From there, Yuuri took back to his modest position beside Viktor. He sat patiently through the meeting, not drawing any unnecessary attention to himself.

Viktor did a wonderful job of impressing the representatives of JLK. Both parties walked off from the meeting feeling optimistic. Claire dismissed needing anything else of Viktor, so Viktor took Yuuri back to the car to drive home.

By the time Viktor pulled up the driveway, his and Yuuri’s stomachs were grumbling for lunch. Chef Plisetsky served them quick, delicious cold meat sandwiches and homemade potato salad. From there, Viktor informed Yuuri that he had work to do in his study, and Yuuri inoffensively reminded Viktor that he wanted a bit of break to go to Minako’s studio. Yuuri needed some time off from all the glamour and business talk.

More than happy to oblige, Viktor helped Yuuri call for Mr. Altin. On the drive into town, Yuuri realized that he hadn’t interacted much with Shamil Altin. He asked a couple introductory questions, all to happily learned that Shamil didn’t need much prompting to carry a conversation.

However, the driver did not spend much time introducing himself. The most Yuuri learned about Shamil himself was that he had been a car lover and mechanic since he was a teenager, but also enjoyed writing poetry – both in Kazakh and Arabic.

Instead, Shamil spent half the ride praising how good of an employer Roman was. Apparently, Roman was more than happy to provide Shamil space in the estate garage, for him to work on all his projects. And when Yuuri mentioned Otabek, Shamil spent the other half of the ride gushing about how proud he was of his multitalented son.

Yuuri decided he liked Mr. Altin. The man was sweet and nice to listen to, with such a deep, tranquil voice. Though, Yuuri just had to wonder where the Nikiforovs found all these talented people. World class dancers and fighters, polyglots, business aces, renaissance men… what a circle of people! Yuuri couldn’t even begin to see himself reaching such a level of prestige.

When Shamil dropped Yuuri off in front of that old building, he gave Yuuri a phone number to call when he wanted to be picked back up. Yuuri nodded and went inside.

Minako was in the middle of a class, that much Yuuri knew without having to check. Out of anyone, he probably knew her schedule just as well as she did. He slipped into his little studio. Instead of picking out any symphony or routine, he selected some of his favorite peppier songs to listen to while stretching and going through positions. It was a welcome switch up from his most recent soundtrack of Lilia’s critiques.

Yuuri focused on stretching out all his sore muscles, as gently as possible. He let himself melt into the music, his eyes slipping closed as he relaxed into each position. When he stretched out his leg on the floor in front of him, he let his nose fall to his knee. He breathed out in complete ease.

Later, he told himself that it was because the music was loud enough and his eyes were unfocused enough that he did not notice Minako burst into the room. Yuuri told himself this, because he was not entirely proud of the way he screamed and threw off Minako’s hand in immediate defense. He would have tried to flip her, if he didn’t whip around and see who had grabbed his shoulder.

Especially when he noticed how manic Minako was.

He barely had time to take his earphone out before she shrieked at him, “ _Why didn’t you tell me that you and Viktor are engaged?_ ”

Oh. Right. Yuuri deflated, his eyes flickering away from his sensei’s intense, excited, yet accusatory stare. That excuse had been adopted after he had spoken to Minako. Most likely, she had been by Yu-Topia at some point this week, and the happy, proud Katsuki parents had shared the news.

In Minako’s perspective, Yuuri had withheld _a very important_ reason for moving in with Viktor. She was now suspicious and not willing to take any bullshit answers.

When Yuuri didn’t answer right away, she grabbed his hands. “No rings? Does he have a ring?”

“N-no, I…” what was the story? Yuuri had asked so impulsively that he didn’t have rings. “I just… it kind of happened so fast so, um, you know.”

Minako’s fingers tightened into indents on Yuuri’s hands.

“You’re kidding, right? You proposed to him? A _week_ after getting back together?”

“Yes?” Yuuri shifted, and then squinted up at her. He was still seated on the ground. “And weren’t you okay with me moving in with him?”

Minako leaned back up, but because she didn’t let go of his hands, he was brought up stand with her.

“I’m not allowed to be worried about you?” She dropped his hands so that she could cross her arms. “I just need to know something. And I need you to answer me as honestly as you can. Does marriage to him mean the same thing it does to you?”

“What… do you mean?”

She sighed. “Look, you’ve been at his house for a week now, so I’m sure you’ve noticed the way Roman strings Viktor’s mothers around. It’s like some backwards polygamous setup, or something. I just want to make sure that Viktor doesn’t think marrying you means that you have to be this little subservient concubine.”

Yuuri gulped. Well. Shit.

‘Anyone who’s close enough to our family knows about the pet thing.’ Viktor had said that. It made sense. Yet Yuuri hadn’t fully conceptualized that ‘anyone who’s close enough’ meant anyone who interacted with the Nikiforovs outside the occasional party. Sure, Minako had only claimed to attend a few parties, but she was quick, observant. He wondered what else she had noticed.

“I know that Viktor makes you happy.” Minako added, sensing Yuuri’s hesitation. He could, in turn, sense a sermon building. “But I wouldn’t dare let him treat you that way.”

“No, no,” he stopped her, defeated. “It’s not like that. The Nikiforovs don’t force anyone to... be like that. Viktor’s mothers chose it. I think because they wanted to be close to someone so rich and influential. Like groupies.”

“Oh,” Minako relaxed. “So, you won’t be forced into it? You’re absolutely sure?”

“I’m not being forced to do anything.” Yuuri said, hesitating to say more. Oh, fuck it, he decided, standing up straighter and ignoring how his hands started to shake. “Because I chose it too.”

It took a moment for Minako to process that. Yuuri waited carefully as her expression went through the five stages of grief in a matter of seconds. Finally, she settled on uncompromising disbelief.

“The truth is,” Yuuri continued, slowly, closing his trembling hands into fists, “Viktor and I aren’t engaged.” He paused. “Well, we might be. But we’re still working that out. Point is, I asked to be his… his…”

“His what?” Minako’s voice came out strained, like her vocal cords had flattened as far as her concerned brows.

“Er, it sounds a little weird, but his family refers to that role as being a pet.”

Minako’s eyes shut as she let out a grumbled, inhuman sound. She took a full body breath of air, stepped back, and then exhaled slowly. He thought he heard her mutter something that sounded like ‘fucking rich people.’ But she did her best to breathe in and out, standing completely still, save for the twitch of her brow.

“Okay.” She said. “Okay. And your family doesn’t know about any of this?”

“No.”

“And you don’t ever plan to tell them? You’re just going to let your mom believe that you’re going to marry Viktor? Even when you’re going to be a part of some harem?”

“I don’t think he’ll have a harem. Viktor and his moms think I’ll be his only pet. So, like I said, we’ve thought about getting legally married.”

‘Thought about’ was code for: they brought it up once then haven’t had the time or energy – or courage, in Yuuri’s case – to discuss it again.

This didn’t appease Minako. She eyed him coldly. “That’s not my point. I’m asking you… are you planning to always hide this from your family? From your friends?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to answer, realized he hadn’t even thought about that, and then diverted his eyes. “I don’t know.”

Minako shook her head, and then headed towards the door. “If you’re serious about this, then you need to figure that out real soon.”

At that, she left him alone in the white tiled studio, with nothing but his now loud, heavy thoughts to keep him company.

-/-/-

A great part of Yuuri didn’t want to focus on Minako’s question.

Her point had pushed him up onto a high wire platform. He was scared that the answer he’d come to was that he’d have to tell him family, Phichit, others who _deserved_ to know, the truth. That answer terrified him because then he’d be thrust into a balancing act so dangerous, he’d have to walk that tightrope with disappointing his loved ones weighing on one arm, and betraying Viktor’s secret on the other. Below him would only be the worst sort of consequences.

In the meantime, Yuuri threw himself into his training. By the third week, he had caught onto the routine. He was now waking up right before his alarm and was ready and standing at attention outside his bedroom door when Lilia came by to fetch him. When she marched him outside for the morning exercise, he took to each command much faster. She even started nodding in approval at his lap time. Her critiques faded out for budding praise as he kept up impressively with each new set of exercises that she pushed him with.

He let all his exhaustion loose once she released him. Over breakfast he’d chug down a few glasses of juice, and then for his shower he found great use with the massage mode on the shower head. In the downtime before his daily lesson, he’d mentally go over whatever he had last learned, so that he showed up prepared and ready.

During his Russian lessons, he had started exchanging complete sentences with his teacher. Mr. Ivanov wasn’t visibly impressed by this, but Yuuri was proud of his development. It meant that he could start understanding the gist of simple exchanges between the Russian speakers in the house, and even interact with them.

From this, he discovered that Chef Plisetsky was the sweetest man ever if Yuuri complimented his cooking in the grandpa’s native language. With each new day, Yuuri would find his plate piled high with all the foods he liked best – compatible with his diet, of course.

On another occasion, Yuuri noticed that Nina and Lyuba used a lot of diminutives with each other. Yuuri was surprised, as he had expected such cutesy language from Nina, but not from someone as straight faced as Lyuba. But there Lyuba always was, laying out endearments for the most random of objects, almost like the entire house was her baby. It was quite the dichotomy. Yuuri did a good job of keeping his amusement to himself.

His etiquette lessons were also going well, as they always had. But more than that, Yuuri started receiving compliments for his improved posture, speech, and knowledge.

There was one very nice and memorable time when Viktor had seen Yuuri walking from lunch to his afternoon training – Yuuri’s chin parallel to the floor, his eyes trained forward in purpose – and then Yuuri had found himself being pulled against the wall and kissed senseless by an excited boyfriend.

Yuuri had done his absolute best to remind Viktor of the importance of punctuality. Or at least, Yuuri had said something. That was effort enough. He had happily and pathetically let Viktor slip him into the empty room near them – which happened to be the receiving area to the dining room. Quite fortunately, the doors had been closed, and no one needed that room anytime soon. Neither left until Viktor was absolutely satisfied with the hickies he left on Yuuri’s neck.

The consequential half hour lecture from Lilia, when Yuuri arrived thirteen minutes late to his training, was totally worth it.

Another advantage to knowing Chris was that Yuuri soon became a frequent patron to the downstairs bar. On nights he didn’t join the mothers, Yuuri spent his time getting to know the members of the house better. Lilia begrudgingly approved of the activity, as Yuuri was learning things. Even if said things were staff gossip.

For one, Yuuri learned that Viktor was right: Antonio was much more approachable when he was drunk. He and Alexie made an incorrigible pair, and Chris usually had to chase them out before the men’s enthusiasm turned into clumsy vandalism.

When the minor house staff had the chance to gather at the bar, they would trade the juiciest pieces of gossip over wine and beer. But most nights weren’t for crazy drinking or gossip.

Usually when Yuuri went downstairs, he found the kids of the house staff chilling at one of the tables or hanging around the arcade games. Those closest in age to him were the twins, at seventeen. Yet both Sara and Mila, who recently turned fifteen, drank, while Otabek and Michele did not. Yuuri usually sat back and watched as Mila and Michele got incredibly competitive over Pac-Man, or Otabek and Michele talked cars, or even as the girls started flirting with each other after a beer or two.

Even as Sara tried to include Yuuri in as many interactions as she could, most of the time, Yuuri just chatted with Chris. He was starting to feel comfortable. He could imagine himself staying in the house for a long time, and not just for the opportunity of being a pet, or just for Viktor. (Although, those two things were still great motivators.)

-/-/-

On the third Saturday, Yuuri got a chance to hang out with Phichit for the day. In the morning, the two played a few rounds of Super Smash, Phichit experimenting with different mains as he tried to find a way to defeat Yuuri’s Yoshi. After Phichit ended up surrendering four rounds in, he was very frustrated with that ‘damn red capped toad.’

For lunch, the boys met up with Leo and Guang Hong, who were on their lunch break from the pet shop. To make up for sorely defeating him, Yuuri bought Phichit lunch. Phichit didn’t even protest. Just added a sly, ‘yeah, that’s right, take advantage of your sugar daddy fiancé.’ Yuuri had nearly choked in response. And then Phichit had made it even worse by choosing that exact moment to notice the fading hickies on Yuuri's neck. 

Poor Leo and Guang Hong did not sign up for such content. 

But overall, it was a good day out, save for Phichit wanting to gush about his boyfriend to his friends. It wasn’t that great of a feeling for Yuuri to be reminded of Officer Lee. Yuuri was just relieved that Seung didn’t have any interest in meeting people Phichit didn’t actually know, so that double date was put on hold.

Still, Yuuri had to remind himself that he could handle this, that nothing would go wrong. No need for Mari or Minako to worry about him. He would be careful about how he balanced his two lives. No one had to be dragged into anything destructively consequential.  

Nevertheless, once Yuuri got back to the estate, he just wanted to find Viktor and spend some time alone together. Maybe talk about their day, or cuddle. Hell, if Viktor suggested going for a jog together, Yuuri would accept even that. As well as Yuuri had been adjusting to the busy schedule, spending great lengths of time away from Viktor was still difficult.

Yuuri walked about the house, overwhelmed and wondering when all this training would be complete, so that he didn't have to feel like he was always searching for Viktor, always chasing him down. 

Viktor wasn’t in his suite, or in any of the dining rooms. When Yuuri couldn’t find Viktor anywhere on his own, he went downstairs to the bar. Chris was there, setting up for the night.

“Hey, Chris, do you know where Viktor is?” Yuuri asked.

Chris paused in cutting up some limes. “Hm? Last I saw him, he was headed towards the throne room.”

“Okay, thanks.” Yuuri nodded. He walked towards that red wallpaper hallway.

“Oh, heads up, Roman’s holding court.” Chris called out.

Yuuri hesitated a moment. It was nearing eight at night, and so far, Yuuri never knew Roman to hold court outside of mornings. Well, Yuuri didn’t have to go into the throne room. He could probably check that receiving area behind the hidden door. If Viktor wasn’t there, then he’d wait. 

After a few minutes of fiddling with the wall, Yuuri re-remembered how to activate the hidden door. He slipped into that receiving area, to find no one there. Yuuri bit his lip, remembering the rules. Wait. Did this count as the east side of the basement? No one had completely clarified that for him, and he knew that there were more rooms past the throne room. Viktor hadn’t showed him that area of the house, so that must be the east side he wasn’t allowed to explore.

Making up excuses for himself, Yuuri sat down on one of the couches and waited. He spent quite a while, what felt like at least ten minutes, just fiddling with his hands. The room itself was quiet, in an almost disconcerting way. There was a far-off sound filtering in from the walls. At first, Yuuri assumed that Chris had turned on the music in the bar. He concentrated on it, wondering if he could recognize a tune.

No, the sound wasn’t coming from the direction of the bar, but from the door of the throne room. Yuuri got up and tip toed over to the door, to place his ear against the surface. He could now pick out the sound. Shouting. 

It was so muffled that Yuuri couldn’t even place a voice. He looked around the room, back at the door towards the hallway. Still, no one was coming. Would it be against the rules to peek inside of the throne room? It wasn’t like Yuuri would be seeing anything new.

He reached towards the door handle, hesitated, and then reached for it again. His heartbeat pounded with indecision and curiosity. There was another shout. It tore through Yuuri’s internal debate. He slowly turned the knob, kneeled down, and peeked through the crack.

Roman was on his throne, as normal, with the pets around him. Yuuri couldn’t see Viktor though. His eyes traced what Roman was looking at – a man held down on his knees by a guard, the source of the shouting, Yuuri realized.

The man was beat up, his body painted in scrapes and bruises. One eye was nearly swollen shut.

Yuuri’s pulse quickened, all his muscles tensing like a rocket about to bolt off.

“I can pay you back! Please, sir, I swear I had every intention to pay you back!” The man on the ground pleaded.

“This isn’t about the money.” Roman said back, voice level and cold. “This is about you betraying this empire. And after I was so lenient with you last time…” He made a half-hearted gesture towards the man, which Yuuri followed with his eyes. After a moment of study, Yuuri noticed it: a stark red mark on the man’s hand. A letter ‘T’ in a circle.

Branded into the skin.

Something lurched in Yuuri’s throat.

“Yes, sir, you are most merciful, please.” The man nodded profusely, now blabbering as if he didn’t even believe a word out of his own mouth. “Please, I just needed a bit of money. To pay off the debt. I swear I meant no ill will towards this empire.”

Roman sighed and leaned his head on his hand, ignoring the pleas. “You know the worst thing about this is? If you had just made a proper request for financial assistance, I could have helped you. But, clearly, you didn’t… almost as if your need for money wasn’t benign in nature.”

The man faltered in his pleas, his entire frame freezing like a deer caught in headlights.

“Now, if you tell me exactly what you stole the money for, I might spare you.”

“Debt,” the man repeated, shaking so bad that his voice was mostly panted breath, “d-debt.”

All light disappeared from Roman’s eyes. Yuuri now knew, deep in the churning recesses of his gut, that he should shut the door right then and there. This was a mistake. He needed to look away. He needed to look away _now_.

His body wouldn’t listen to him. His eyes were trained, unblinking, on Roman.

Roman gave a terse command to his pets. Yuuri watched, feeling like he was sinking into the cold, cold floor, as the women pulled their guns.

All three aimed at one target, and then the room exploded with noise.

The body crumpled to the ground. Red seeped from the clothes. Flecks of red now completed a violent artwork on the back of the man’s hand, where the ‘merciful’ brand stared back at Yuuri.

A choked off gasp escaped Yuuri’s mouth. In the chaos of that one single second, no one should have heard or seen him. But in the middle of replacing her gun back to safety, Mei’s eyes wandered up. She caught the crack of the door.

She saw Yuuri.

All the tension in his muscles snapped, loosing Yuuri up and back from the door. He hit the wall of the hidden doorway in all his inertia, the movement pulling bile from his stomach. He clutched at his mouth, willing himself not to be sick on the floor.

Through now watering eyes, he fumbled with the exit, panicking and crying until he got it open and was able to escape into the hallway. Where would he go from there? If he left the hallways, Chris would see him, Chris would tell the others where Yuuri went.

Yuuri spotted the door to the water closet. He bolted there, locked the door behind him, and then barely made it to the toilet before he threw up.

He couldn’t get the sound out of his ears. Couldn’t get the smell out of his nose. Metal, smoke, iron. So bitter, so stomach turning, the smell of death. His mind replayed every detail as he slumped over the toilet and tried not to cry out.

He couldn’t let them find him. Had he broken a rule? He had, hadn’t he. For certain, he had seen something he was not supposed to see. This was why he wasn’t allowed in the throne room without invitation.

Fuck, he was so stupid! So naïve! Hadn’t he known, since that dinner all those weeks ago, that Roman was a dangerous man? That there was a reason this city was ruled by one family?

Just earlier today he had been praising himself on his perceived ability to handle this secret life. What was Yuuri kidding himself for? Knowing that he was training to guard the heir to a criminal empire was one thing. _Seeing_ exactly what that role entailed…

He panted into the bowl, coughing out the last of the bile.

“ – this way?”

Yuuri froze. There were people right outside, pacing down the hallway.

“Ask Chris where he went.” That was Lyuba’s voice.

Yuuri threw his hand to his mouth again, to hold back any terrified noise that threatened to escape. In the pitch black of the bathroom, he shuffled back, awkwardly feeling around with one hand until he found the corner behind the toilet.

“ – never went that way.”

Even though he couldn’t see more than the line of light peeking from under the door, Yuuri stared wide eyed at it. Shadows crossed the light, never stopping in front of the bathroom. He pressed himself into the corner, his heartbeat now echoing off the walls of his hiding spot.

Yuuri held his breath. A shadow stopped in front of the bathroom door. The doorknob shook. But still locked, it didn’t let the person in.

But now they knew where Yuuri was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: graphic violence, blood, death, vomiting  
> Potential Trigger: police officer character. However, in this world, cops aren’t corrupt kkk grandbabies _because I said so._ So, don’t worry, Seung Gil Lee and all his police buddies genuinely want to help people. 
> 
> Anyways, so right after I just hit you with another information-packed, intense chapter, I'm gonna throw some headcanons at you now too! Ready your discourse! 
> 
> Headcanon One:  
> "I’ve also always known that Vicchan is a bit socially awkward."  
> So, lately, I've been toying with the idea that Viktor is on the autism spectrum. I've found that I'm not the only one with this headcanon, but it's not a very common headcanon, which is interesting. I'm starting to think it explains a lot of Viktor's character...  
> \- genius in his field  
> \- clingy af with people he loves and trusts,  
> but masks around people he doesn't know/like  
> \- steamrolls into anything he’s set his mind on  
> \- the literal WORST foot in mouth syndrome  
> \- What are emotions???  
> \- diva  
> \- loves animals (okay, I know this isn’t actually a thing, but I’ve yet to meet an autistic person who hates animals)  
> \- people assume he's crazy or selfish for the way he does things, when in reality Viktor's just set on his own incredible ideas, and doesn't seem?? aware of?? or care for societal expectations?? he's not a malicious person who assumes he can mistreat people just because he's better than them, he just doesn't seem to know what's helpful or not  
>  ~~"commemorative photo? sure"~~  
>  plz bby you're doing your best, i love you
> 
> Headcanon Two:  
> Jewish Yakov. This is something I see in both canon and AUs. His tikkun olam is adopting sad kids and trying to keep their lives together lmao.  
> Note: I spent a long time debating if I was going to keep him Jewish for this AU, since I’m really hesitant to associate any Jewish character with organized crime or government corruption. (yes, I know Jewish crime and corruption exists, but media has blown it way out of proportion basically since media existed) I decided for now to keep him Jewish (since it would tie into his character arc later in the story), but if any Jewish readers find this disrespectful, I can edit the story as needed. 
> 
> Headcanon Three:  
> I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: my boy Yuuri is on the asexual spectrum. Whether he’s graysexual or demisexual, I really don’t care. He’s just ace and Viktor is his unicorn. 
> 
> Disclaimer, I am not autistic, asexual, or Jewish. I am open to critique on how I portray any of these groups.


	6. a new face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **NOTE: SINCEREST APOLOGIES but I don't think I am going to finish this story.**  
>  As some of you already know, this story started out as a guilty pleasure idea of mine, and initially I had no intention of sharing it. As such, I feel over-exposed, and it was emotionally exhausting to work on and share this story. However, I will leave it up, because a lot of you seemed to enjoy what's written so far. Again, I am ever greatful to all the support given, and everyone who cheered me on. I felt like you all deserved an explanation. I love all of you! 
> 
> ...
> 
> Also, this chapter is pretty heavy in OC content. I know I have readers who like my OCs (for whatever reason), but for those who are here for some good ol' viktuuri content, I did my best to provide!

The shadow did not move from the light under the door.

An irrational part of Yuuri’s brain suggested that the person on the other side could see movement in the room from that sliver of space between door and floor. He tucked his feet in as close as he could, and held his breath.

Then there was a sharp knock at the door. It shot through the confined darkness of the bathroom, reverberating off the walls. Yuuri jumped in his corner, both hands gripping his own mouth shut.

Another knock, lighter this time. Uncertain, almost, of any answer. “Yuuri? Are you in there?”

Yuuri gasped. That was Viktor!

“May I come in?” Viktor asked. “I promise it’ll be alright.”

As skewed as the circumstances were, Yuuri was marginally surprised that he believed Viktor. On wobbly legs, he stood and made his way over to the door with careful, blind steps. His hand graced the circular doorknob.

“Viktor?” he asked, weakly, not quite sure what he was searching for.

“Yes, yes, it’s me.” There was no distance to Viktor’s voice – the sound was right against the wood of the door. “It’s just me and my moms. They won’t hurt you either. I promise.”

Yuuri’s hand shook, enough so that when he first tried to turn the doorknob, he couldn’t find purchase. It took him a moment to remember that he had locked the door. He then unlocked the door. The click of the lock was almost louder than expected. Yuuri froze.

No one opened the door. A minute passed. Viktor was waiting for permission.

That allowance towards Yuuri’s comfort had him leaping the next step. He pulled open the door, barely taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light before he was falling into Viktor’s waiting arms.

Viktor wrapped himself around Yuuri in a promising, protective embrace. In turn, Yuuri buried his head into Viktor’s chest. His now smudged up glasses pressed into his face with how deeply he burrowed. He was vaguely aware that his face was still messy, his lips still spit stained, and that Viktor was wearing a nice button up. If Viktor noticed the dampness, he didn’t let any prudishness show.

Hanging onto Viktor and his promise, Yuuri knew intimately that he was safe.

There were others in Yuuri’s peripheral vision. The mothers and Chris. Likely the latter had been brought on to help look for Yuuri. Their presence shook Yuuri of his temporary comfort, reminding him exactly what scared him into the corner of a dark water closet.

Viktor was whispering some sort of consolation, and he started to rub circles in Yuuri’s back when Yuuri started to shake again.

“I broke a rule,” Yuuri breathed into Viktor’s shirt. There was a slight shiver on Viktor’s part.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

Yuuri leaned back so that Viktor could hear him.

“I broke a rule,” he repeated. His voice caught. Shook. “One of the house rules. Doesn’t that mean I’ll be… that you’ll have to…”

Viktor frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“The rule barring him from the throne room without invitation.” Mama Lyuba stepped forward. Viktor reacted instantly. She would have walked right up to them if Viktor didn’t turn bodily away from her, placing himself as a shield between Yuuri and everyone else.

The movement shocked everyone there - even Viktor seemed surprised of his own reaction. But his surprise didn't take his guard down. There was a heartbeat of cold war, as Viktor and his mothers stared at each other in uncharacteristic challenge. Chris’ very presence radiated awkwardness. The bartender was likely wondering if he could slip away yet.

Even Yuuri squirmed a bit uncomfortably. He didn’t want Viktor and the mothers fighting on his account.

“Y-yes,” Yuuri interrupted, cutting off the potential conflict. “I was looking for you, Viktor. I thought you were in the throne room, but you weren’t, and then I… saw…”

His eyes flashed over to the women.

“He saw us execute Ainsley.” Mei finished for Yuuri. Her eyes caught Yuuri’s. The usual beautiful dark brown of her eyes bored into him. A stare that knew everything.

Viktor exhaled in understanding. “Ah.”

“He was spying on us,” Nina summarized, with a sardonic air to her upturned chin. “Like he usually does.”

“Yes,” Lyuba drawled. She crossed her arms. “One has to wonder if this habit is intentional or not.”

Yuuri winced. He only belatedly noticed that Chris did manage to slip away. It seemed like this trial would not have an audience. Viktor was Yuuri’s only defender, and he didn’t even know the entire story.

Were the women, especially Lyuba, now realizing that they had been too lenient with Yuuri for too long?

“Well,” Lyuba then snapped. “Did you learn anything from your espionage?”

Yes. Yuuri learned too many things. Too many for him to even know what to voice first.

“Mama, he was only looking for me. If he didn’t interrupt court then I don’t see – ”

Lyuba silenced her son with a wave of her hand.

“How likely do you think Roman would accept that story?” She said. “Our interpretation of the events aside, Yuuri will have to answer for himself.”

The way she said ‘our,’ Yuuri picked up. It was collective of everyone present there. She agreed with Viktor?

“Wait.” Yuuri pulled a little away from Viktor’s hold. “You’re not mad at me?”

“ _We_ already know your extemporaneous habits.” Mei said with a quirked brow. “We know you can’t help being a surprise to yourself and everyone else. It would be wasted energy for us to be mad at you.”

“But you don’t want Roman to think he has to keep an eye on you.” Lyuba explained, curtly, as if such a thing was a death sentence in of itself. “So, if you learned anything from this, anything important regarding how you should maintain yourself around this family, I suggest you adhere to it from here on out.”

“Understood.” Yuuri nodded. He steadied himself, gripping onto Viktor’s arms like a lifeline to safety, to bring down the walls blocking off the horrid memories. He thought less about the execution, and more about why Roman deemed this man, Ainsley, worthy of capital punishment.

‘ _This isn’t about the money. This is about you betraying this empire_.’

Furthermore, when Roman had said he would have given financial assistance upon request, Yuuri believed him. Yuuri already knew from the first time he saw Roman preside over court that the king was more than benevolent to his subjects. So, that meant...

Slam! The sound of a door being shoved open sounded from down the hall. Yuuri jumped again.

Before they saw him, Roman’s muttering flowed from the secret room and into the hallway. It was the loudest muttering Yuuri had ever heard, and he knew immediately that it was done with purpose.

“– men like that. Think that somehow, in all their unworthy coat-tailing cowardice, they’re entitled to anything they want.”

When Roman emerged from the secret wall door, which Yuuri now noticed hadn’t been closed in all the chaos, the entire atmosphere of the hallway had surged into a different gear. The women brought their postures into themselves, shifting like lightspeed from authority figures to slaves. Viktor shifted Yuuri so that Yuuri now stood at Viktor’s side, at militaristic attention from when earlier he had been softly wrapped around Yuuri.

Roman continued to rant to himself, each word striking the lesson further into Yuuri’s mind. Roman ranted about disloyalty and liars. About deception and accountability. Logically, Yuuri knew that Roman was ranting about this Ainsley, yet every word felt directed at Yuuri. With a quick hand, Yuuri brushed all traces of his panic from his face.

Roman stopped before Viktor and Yuuri. His eyes locked on Yuuri – without any attention towards his son or pets.

“The world is much better off without a man like him.” Roman’s eyes were slits, his entire face dark with the small, cold smile he wore. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Yuuri stared back up at Roman, willing himself not to shake. The thought of Ainsley’s torturous interrogation reminded Yuuri of when he had been fake kidnapped. When he had been tied to a chair and beat for information.

What did Yuuri learn? Both then and now? He learned that by associating with this family, he would end up gaining a lot more enemies than he had anything to do with. They would want to hurt him, use him, all to try to get to Viktor. Today he learned the conclusion to that lesson. Betraying this family, at the demand of these enemies, would bring out worse consequences.

Being associated with the Nikiforovs meant more than just fighting off stoned delinquents or escaping interrogations. Or even evading the cops. In fact, when it caught up to Yuuri, any single moment around this family could lead to grievous harm or death. Loyalty was the most effective way to avoid a nasty end.

“Whatever you have to do to keep this city safe.” He said, conceding the series of events to Roman’s will. 

Roman’s brows rose, allowing light to fall into his eyes once more. He tilted his chin up in approval. Yet the smile still shot ice into Yuuri’s core. A fragile approval. One that could be solidified or shattered with the smallest action.

The second Roman’s attention turned from Yuuri, he felt the tension leave his frame like a cord snapping.

“Pets,” Roman then ordered. “A word.”

Just as fast as he breathed a sigh of relief, Yuuri was gasping in panic.  

“Yes, sir.” The women chorused, before falling in line with Roman, back to the throne room.

Yuuri watched them go, his next breath locked in his throat. No, no, no. This was not supposed to happen. Yuuri was the one who fucked up, not the pets.

His hand flew to his throat, as if he could somehow pull in oxygen if he just pressed hard enough.

“Yuuri, breathe.”

Viktor’s voice echoed somewhere outside of the delirious screaming in Yuuri’s head. Why wouldn’t this just be over? Why couldn’t Yuuri take responsibility for his own actions and then let everything move on as normal?

Yuuri now hunched over, his mind dancing with accusations against his own integrity. His hand had failed to bring oxygen or calm. All there was left to do was to sink, like the vermin he was, to the floor and –

Hands then grabbed Yuuri’s face, covering the new moisture from his eyes. Viktor forced Yuuri to look up and at him, a bit roughly. The blue of Viktor’s eyes swam in his vision.

“Breathe.” Viktor commanded.

Yuuri heard and understood a delayed second later. He let out a straw thin breath.

“Yes, like that.” Viktor’s hand became a little gentler. “Inhale.”

Yuuri’s throat was making this hard. He made the motion of inhaling, trying to make the blue stop spinning. It came slowly into focus. Exhale.

The next breath was easier. Yuuri could now make out the lines of Viktor’s face. With the next few breaths, he could make out each individual eyelash, and the way Viktor’s own tears clung to them. Just like always, Viktor absorbed Yuuri’s emotions. Not wanting Viktor to hurt either, Yuuri focused more on calming himself down.

“It’s going to be alright,” Viktor said. “Papa would _never_ hurt my mothers. Do you understand? He’s not going to hurt them.”

“It’s not just that.” Yuuri gasped out.

Viktor continued to hold him, the fingers of his right hand now stroking the side of Yuuri’s face. Gratefully, Yuuri leaned into the touch. Viktor asked, “What is it?”

“I’m… I’m used to being blamed for my own failures… I don’t want them being held accountable for my mistakes.”

Viktor stared at Yuuri long and hard, before sighing and bringing Yuuri back into an embrace. “I know. I understand. But they agreed to be held responsible for you, at least while you’re being trained.”

There was an unsaid ‘I told you so’ hanging in the air. The sentence could have been continued with ‘and you agreed to the terms of this training.’

Though, in a way, it was a good thing that Yuuri saw what he saw. He now knew exactly what horrible thing could happen. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that _knowing_ didn’t cause as much anxiety as _not-knowing_.

He sniffled, and then pulled back to look back at Viktor. “What does your dad think of me? Please be honest.”

This clearly wasn’t the response Viktor had been expecting. He balked. But instead of asking why Yuuri would want to know such a thing, or trying to deflect the new subject, he answered with a side glance.

“He thinks… that you’re too good.”

It was Yuuri’s turn to react in surprise. “Wait? What? Too good for you?”

“No, no. Somewhat the opposite. He thinks you’re too innocent. For our family’s lifestyle. Sure, my family isn’t evil… we do a lot of good for this city. But Pa has to keep a tight ship to get that done and he doesn’t think you fit the agenda.”

“Oh.” Yuuri blinked. He looked down. “He’s probably right. I don’t think I ever could just… kill someone. Like that.”

Viktor gripped onto Yuuri a bit tighter. “If you’re rethinking things, you should know that ‘executioner’ isn’t a job requirement to being a pet. You would do whatever I want of you, whatever I order of you. And Yuuri, I promise you: I would never order you to do anything you couldn’t or wouldn’t do.”

Yuuri smiled. He let the promise wash over him and write itself into his core. Yet it didn’t completely assuage his concern.

“But wouldn’t that mean you’d have to do that… kill people, I mean.”

Against Viktor’s chest, Yuuri could feel him swallow. “I can handle that.”

“You’ve – ”

“When I was sixteen and home on summer vacation, Pa called me to the throne room. He had on trial a john from downtown. He had broken our family’s requirements on brothels. We require all sex work in this city to be voluntary. But this man… he would find sisters and kidnap the youngest one. He would then force the older sister to work for him at threat of torturing or killing the younger sister. If the police or my family came around, the older sister was to say that she was prostituting herself of her own free will… or else.”

Yuuri shuddered.

“A monster of a man,” Viktor continued, in a snarl. “Just hearing about all the things he did to these girls made me so sick… it was clear that he didn't do it for the money, but purely because he got off on these girls' fear... when Pa put a gun in my hand, I knew what I had to do, so I did it.”

“But, Viktor, that’s – ”

“That was my first kill. Pa made sure it was the easiest.” Viktor’s voice, from above Yuuri’s head, was devoid of emotion.

This was seven years ago. What was Yuuri doing seven years ago? He was learning how to dance. Viktor was training to kill. Learning how to pass judgment on the worst scum of the city’s underbelly.

Sometimes Yuuri felt like Viktor was robbed of something. Like this beautiful light of a man could have done something more with his life if he didn’t have to inherit an empire, as grand as such an inheritance seemed. Well, if Mama Lyuba wanted Yuuri to be there for Viktor, to distract him from his responsibilities when he needed it, then Yuuri would do that. He hugged Viktor tighter.

That was how the mothers found them some ten minutes later.

Mama Lyuba interrupted shamelessly. “Yuuri, we need to speak with you.” A cursory glance towards Viktor. “Alone.”

Swallowing, Yuuri let go of Viktor and bobbed his head. He followed the women’s procession as they went back upstairs to the parlor. The room seemed untouched from the last time Yuuri was here, back when they first sorted out this entire pet scenario. It was even the same time of day, so the creams and ambers of the room were still washed in the same tone.

He was invited to take a seat on one side of the mahogany coffee table, the women sitting across from him. Lyuba and Mei took to a loveseat, while Nina sat in her favored armchair – this time without throwing her legs over the arm.

The guilt beating at Yuuri’s heart abated a little from Viktor’s support and comfort, but it was still there and demanded to be acknowledged. Yuuri knew how much Mama Lyuba devalued apologies. Yet it felt like Yuuri had little else to offer.

“Are you… are you all okay?” He asked instead, lamely. They were unamused. Nina even rolled her eyes and fell back into the cushion of her chair. Now only Lyuba and Mei sat proper with their hands on their laps.

“Roman did not punish us, if that is what you’re worried about.” Mama Lyuba said. “However, we have decided that there will be consequences for your actions. As you know, it is less of a problem that you were peaking into the throne room, and more of a problem that you knowingly broke an agreed upon rule. In our family, we do not tolerate such aberrant behavior.”

Yuuri went stiff. He sweated and tried to remind himself that he was wanted to take responsibility. That he needed to if he was going to rid himself of this guilt. (But at what cost?)

“We’re not going to brand you.” Nina laughed, noticing his terror-struck expression. “You didn’t embezzle twenty grand, did you?”

Yuuri shook his head in the negative. Is that what Ainsley did?

Mama Lyuba ignored Nina’s remark. “From now on, you will be monitored 24/7. We will post house staff members to escort you everywhere. This will continue until you either become a pet… or quit and go home. Am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Yuuri answered. That was lenient of a punishment! From his nights spent at the bar, he already knew that the house staff were equally omniscient and chatty. He hadn’t marked the occasion, but Yuuri had long given up his right to privacy in this house.

Still, an escort? Was this in any way also related to that time he showed up late to a lesson because Viktor wanted to leave a bunch of hickies on him? Would Yuuri be able to comfortably interact with Viktor again? At least for the indefinite period of his training.

“By the way,” Nina cut in with a smirk, “you can quit at any point. We wouldn’t blame you.”

Nina’s goad caught Yuuri off-guard. Did he really seem that scared? At first, out of self-conscious habit, he checked himself for whatever had betrayed his worries. But then he halted halfway. He realized with a surge of confidence that she was taunting him, challenging him. And Yuuri could never back down from a challenge. When he sat up straight, her smirk fell from her lips, a grudging respect replacing the expression.

“Yes, I understand. From now on, I will respect the authority and rules of this house.”

Lyuba finally leaned back. Approval danced in all their eyes.

“Very good. You may be dismissed.”

Yuuri nearly stood up, but then he remembered something and sat back down.

“Wait, may I ask a question?”

“You may.”

“What did Roman talk with you about?”

Lyuba’s chin tilted up. When none of them stiffened, Yuuri breathed out some relief. Whatever they had convened with Roman about, it wasn’t bad.

“Ah,” she nodded, understanding the curiosity. “He needed us to remind him why we’re so set on you.”

“He doesn’t think I’m a good fit.” Yuuri said, knowing. He then frowned. “Is it also because I’m doing this because I love Viktor?”

The women blinked at him, and then they all burst out laughing. Yuuri bugged at the sudden, unexpected response. The women even needed a moment to compose themselves. Even Mei had to hide her face until she could catch her breath. 

“Not at all,” Lyuba said, still holding back a snicker. “He’d be a hypocrite if he resented you for that. Especially since I am, first and foremost, his lover.”

Nina continued to laugh, this time red-faced into her hand. “Yeah, you have _no_ idea how differently they act in private. Almost sickening.”

Mei also side-glanced her companion with the fond exasperation only achieved by someone who had third-wheeled one too many times. Mama Lyuba, despite herself, blushed at the playful reproach.

So, wait… Lyuba was the same as Yuuri? He knew that he always felt a kinship with her. Also, from time to time, even he had witnessed a softness – which she often kept disguised with a strong stance and even stronger tongue.

A long-lost line filtered back to Yuuri, back when the mothers attended his childhood ballet recital. Ballet was Lyuba’s first love. That implied that she had another love.

“You love him.” Yuuri realized, filled with warmth at the knowledge.

“Yes. I do.” She smiled, the pink still not retreating from her face. “And, Yuuri, we believe that your love for Viktor, and his love for you, will only make the two of you stronger.”

“How so?” Yuuri asked, naturally.

Mama Lyuba took a deep breath. So, there was a long explanation to come. Yuuri sat back and waited patiently.

“Today, as you know,” she began, “the Nikiforovs take great pride in the fact that they don’t force anyone to work for them… not even us pets. Love and loyalty are vital to this family. But it wasn’t always this way. Generations ago, pets were _selected_ – whether they wanted the position or not. To maintain their ‘loyalty,’ their servitude, there was a rule that if the patriarch died, the pets would be killed to be buried with him. This ensured that these skilled fighters wouldn’t plot assassination.”

Yuuri paled.

“But that changed with Vitya’s grandfather, Yuri Nikiforov. You see, Yuri Sr was different from all the Nikiforovs before him. He truly _loved_ Anna. He knew from the moment he met her that he wanted her to be his only pet – which was then a heretical choice, mind you. But he believed that she could handle it alone. Anna… she was a fearless woman, but with a heart of gold.”

Nina, who had been nodding along to the story, animatedly interjected, “She was the strongest woman I ever knew!”

Everyone’s attention turned to Nina. It took Yuuri a second to catch up, but then he remembered that Nina had grown up the family.

“I remember how Mama Anna could pick up two grown men, throw them over her shoulders, and then run a mile.” Nina recounted it all with gestures. “And she was always so sweet to me. When I was little, she’d let me hang off her arm for hours at a time. But she was also headstrong. Even though she loved Papa Yuri back, at first, she refused to become a pet. She didn’t want to be some disposable tool. And you know what? Instead of trying to break her, as the Nikiforovs before him would have done, Papa Yuri _listened_. He ended the practice of killing off pets with their master and added more freedom to the role. Only then did Mama Anna agree to be his pet.”

“We,” Mama Lyuba said when Nina concluded the tale, gesturing to the two other mothers, “believe that if Yuri and Anna did not love each other as they did, then the Nikiforov Empire would have died with him in Russia. It was because he trusted and respected Anna that he sent her to rebuild in America.”

Mei and Nina both nodded their assent. The tale ended with lingering, awestruck silence. Yuuri sat in amazement in all he learned. He had no idea the family had such a legend of a love story.

Now it made sense where Viktor had inherited his hopeless romanticism.

“So, it’s a good thing that I love Viktor?”

“Yes.” Mei replied, speaking up for the first time. “Even more fortunate that you can defend yourself. Whether you ultimately decide to be Viktor’s pet or not, he will likely keep you in his life.”

Yuuri nodded. He then looked between her and Nina. “What about you two? Why did you choose to be Roman’s pets?”

With a snort, Nina shifted herself so that her legs were now over the arm of the chair. It was only because Yuuri knew her so well that he wasn’t fazed by the sight of a nearly fifty year old woman lounging like that. It was just like Yuri Jr. Additionally, at this point in the conversation, only Mei sat properly. Lyuba had rested her head on the back of her hand, leaning against the arm of the loveseat in an air reminiscent of Viktor. There was such a resemblance between the mothers and their sons.

“I knew that I was going to be a pet since I was a child.” Nina answered.

Yuuri choked a little on air. That was likely the reaction Nina had expected because her grin spread. She waited a couple beats, as Yuuri attempted to compose himself, just enjoying his squirming before she decided to explain herself.

She waved off any crazy ideas Yuuri was trying not to have with a lazy toss of her hand. “Of course, I didn’t know about the sexual aspects of it. All I knew was that I admired Mama Anna very much. I wanted to be as strong and powerful as her.”

“Oh, okay,” Yuuri relaxed. That he could understand. When she put it like that, then Yuuri knew that he too always wanted to be just like his childhood idols. But at that, his eyes widened a little. He had no idea he could relate to the older pets so well.

“So, you just wanted to be a pet… in general?” Yuuri felt weird about asking Nina if she was also in love with Roman. She saw right through his vague inquiry.

“No, I’m not in love with Roman. Do I respect him? Absolutely. Am I attracted to him?" She whistled. "I mean, who wouldn’t be?”

Mei’s quirked brow resembled Yuuri’s reaction of bemused exasperation.

But then something in Nina’s expression shifted, and she looked off towards the window of the room with an uncharacteristic wistful look in her eyes. “No, I had my eyes on someone else. Back when I was I kid, I had the most embarrassing infatuation with Roman’s younger brother, Remy.”

Remy? Yuuri caught. This was the first time he was now hearing the late uncle’s name. But with the way Nina said it, ‘Remy’ sounded more like an affectionate nickname.

“Of course, Remy was ten years older than me, so he only saw me as a little sister. But I was determined! I was absolutely certain that if I became this beautiful, irresistible woman, then he’d want me the way Papa Yuri wanted Mama Anna.”

The wistful nostalgia muted, slowly turning to more somber memories. Yuuri held his breath, for he knew the ending to this story. He had never seen Mama Nina with such a vulnerable expression before. He had no idea she could harbor such strong yet soft feelings.

She too, didn’t seem ready to express herself entirely. When she flipped her attention back to Yuuri, a bawdy grin had replaced the heart on her sleeve.

“But either way, I am quite blessed today. I have all the power I could ever want!”

Yuuri didn’t know whether to shudder or congratulate her. Nina with power was a daunting idea. Instead, he turned to Mei. The rest of the room followed Yuuri’s new focus. Lyuba and Nina looked at Mei, who was sitting between the two and doing her very best to ignore their expectant stares.

“I’m a simple woman.” She said with a minute shrug. “I like sex and money.”

Nina laughed and shoved at Mei’s arm. Mei threw an offended glare at her, which Nina ignored more effectively than Mei had at fazing out the group’s curiosity.

“Come now, tell him the truth.” Lyuba pressed.

“That is the truth.”

The two other women’s brows rose.

Mei’s lip curled, her eyes fixed on the white marble fireplace behind Yuuri. But much as Mei wanted the subject changed, Nina shifted in her chair so that she could lean across the space between the chair and the loveseat. The youngest of the pets batted her eyelashes.

Finally, Mei tossed her hands with a huff.

“Fine. _Fine._ Meddlesome brats.” She breathed out between her teeth, before looking at Yuuri. “As you know, my family has maintained quite a close relationship with the Nikiforovs for years. My family contracts out engineers internationally, as well as in China. They do state-owned legal work, yes, in development and infrastructure. However, they’ve been part of the underground scene for decades, and have their hands in many syndicates around the world. They helped settle the Nikiforovs here in America.

“When Roman started looking to take on another pet, my family thought it perfect to arrange a ‘marriage of alliance,’ if you will. My father initially wanted to keep me around for the business, so, inevitably, their first choice was to send over my sister. However, my sister… she’s not reticent or weak, necessarily. I just knew that she did not have the right demeanor for a pet. So, I seduced Roman in her place.”

“Oh.” Yuuri blinked. “And… how did your sister feel about that?”

“Relieved. She’s always been a homebody and had no interest moving to another country. Later, when I explained my opinion to Roman, he told me that he had hoped it would be me all along. We both know it wouldn’t have worked out with my sister.”

“Ah,” Yuuri paused. “Well, I’m glad it worked out?”

Now that Yuuri thought about it, Mei having to step in for her sister’s benefit made sense of all the rare times she showed strong emotions. Any time Mei rose her voice, it was because someone insinuated that the pet position wasn’t entirely consensual.

So, even Mei had her sentimentalities. Not that she, the resident Vulcan, would ever admit to it.

“And… there’s no jealousy between you three?” Yuuri asked, sparing Mei and switching the topic.

“Not at all.” Lyuba said with a light chuckle. “Roman was the first man I was ever exclusive with. In fact, during the first couple weeks he courted me, I was still seeing other men.”

Mei nodded. “We would give our lives for each other with just the same readiness that we’d give our lives for Roman.”

Yuuri could see that. It was rare for these women to go anywhere without each other. And it was clear that this arrangement worked for them, but Yuuri could never imagine sharing Viktor with anyone. Just the hint of the idea made his stomach twist.

Mama Lyuba must have read his thoughts because she offered a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry. I still think that Vitya takes after his grandfather. You’re his Anna.”

Yuuri nodded, believing her.

“Well, if you don’t have anymore questions, then you may finally be dismissed. Lien should be outside to take you back to your room.” Lyuba said.

Yuuri stood. “Thank you.” He paused, bit his lip, and then added, “For telling me all that.”

-/-/-

It was surprising how quickly things returned to the normal routine, and how nothing was the same again. The mothers followed through on their sentence to post a staff member to escort Yuuri wherever he went. Usually Håkon walked Yuuri to his lessons during the day, while Lien watched him at night. Håkon was unapologetically gregarious, so it was hard for Yuuri to tune out his presence. Lien and Yuuri were more so kindred spirits, so he found that he didn’t mind her lenient, quiet presence.

He knew full well that both Håkon and Lien reported whatever he did to the house staff later. Especially since Chris had already informed Yuuri that Lien and Phuc had an uninterrupted link of gossip with each other. Chris had apparently been trying to learn Vietnamese to get in on these discussions.

So, ultimately, Yuuri didn’t bother changing his behavior for the staff’s benefit. What did change was how Yuuri noticed things now.

He couldn’t quite describe the change in himself. It wasn’t that he was on edge. Yet how else could he describe it when now every detail caught his attention? – even those in passing. From his training, he already knew how to be on guard; he had just never applied it casually. Especially since he had been intent on following Minako’s advice, and not involving himself with the grittier details of the house.

But, well, that had all been blown out of the water. Now even exchanges heard around the corners of hallways grabbed Yuuri’s attention.

Yuuri didn’t know enough Russian to parse out entire conversations, but he could pick up on the subjects. He then carried this knowledge with him and found himself asking Viktor or the mothers for explanations of certain issues. They were, a bit surprisingly, open with him about the backdoor dealings.

For example: the Ainsley situation. Story had it that Roman had been watching Ainsley’s loyalties shift away from the empire for a while. He was immediately suspicious when Ainsley stole the first ten thousand. However, at the time, Roman didn’t know who Ainsley’s colleagues were – the man was too useless and cowardly to act alone.

Roman only killed Ainsley by the second stolen ten thousand because, by then, he had picked up on the trail to the other traitors. Ainsley served no further purpose to keep alive. He was more useful as a corpse, as a warning.

The whole thing had seemed violent at first. Unnecessary. But now Yuuri could almost follow the logic.

Disturbingly, the world of the Nikiforovs, which had initially set Yuuri on edge, started to feel normal. Even Wednesdays weren’t as off-putting anymore. Of course, Yuuri knew that Lilia was informed about his escapades that past Saturday, so he didn’t dare react ostentatiously to her lessons with him.

He did a wonderful job of remaining nonchalant when she started off a lesson by asking, “Do you have a gag reflex?”

Yuuri betrayed minimal blushing when he answered, “Yes.”

In turn, Lilia oh-so-helpfully gave Yuuri tips on how he could desensitize his gag reflex. Practice holding something to the back of his throat every day. It takes time so don’t expect immediate results. Don’t worry about it being unnatural – about a third of the population doesn’t have a gag reflex in the first place.

She then gifted him with his very own dildo to practice with. It was a six-inch blue phallus, with not too daunting of a girth. The toy was accompanied with lubricant and toy cleaner.

Naturally, Lilia had no interest in monitoring this phase of Yuuri’s ‘practice.’ More so, she intoned that he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want. But if he had any interest in oral or anal sex with Viktor, it was best for a virgin like him to get used to the sensations on his own first.

Yuuri respectfully nodded to her instruction and accepted her gift. He also ignored all her jabs at his virginity. She wasn’t too far off the mark though. At this point in his life, he hadn’t done anything more to himself than curious fingering a couple times. But given how he had always been too embarrassed to buy lube for himself, and the only thing he believed he had was saliva, the marginal experiments had limited success and left him a bit sore.

(There had been touches of pleasure, when his nerves were brushed in the right way. Yet even those times, Yuuri had to stroke his cock if he wanted the pleasure to chase away the burn.)

Still, he was more than willing to try again with proper lubricant and technique. Enough people had told him that proper lube could make all the difference. By the slight uptick in her brow, Lilia was surprised that Yuuri didn’t have any reservations this part of his training. Honestly, he was still proud of himself for not turning red.

Patience, she stressed, was key. He took that heart and decided to start on his gag reflex first. Every morning and night, he tucked himself away in his bathroom – so that the staff member outside his door wouldn’t hear anything. The first couple times he had ended up spitting up over the toy a bit. After about ten days, Yuuri could hold the dildo to the back of his throat without gagging. After another few days, he could move it back and forth – _slowly_ – without retching.

(He didn’t tell Viktor of his progress. He wanted it to be a surprise.)

Yuuri felt very grown up with this acquired skill; this confidence must have bolstered his focus. September had now come and go, but now there was a marked difference in how Yuuri approached his learnings. He and the women developed more certainty that he would make the final decision in becoming a pet. On the one hand, it made Yuuri happy to know that people were considering him as a viable candidate. On the other hand, it meant his trainers now rained down on him with higher expectations and ferocity.

And he thought they were tough before!

Now during sparring matches, when Nina came at him with a knife, he knew she was aiming for vital points. Any wrong move on his part could result in severe blood loss or even fatal injury. He knew why they were doing this; Yuuri had yet to adapt an intent to kill into his fighting style.

It especially wasn’t easy for Yuuri to put aside his attachment towards the mothers and return their attacks with the same ferocity, but he knew that was what they expected of him. When things started to get serious, Yuuri started walking away from nightly sessions wearing an artwork of cuts and bruises, his shoulders sagged from their list of criticisms.

That was undeniably the hardest time of his training. With the house staff trailing after him everywhere he went, making sure he was punctual to everything, he barely caught snatches of time with Viktor. If he was lucky, he and Viktor could hug and kiss a little before they both retreated to their rooms for the night. There was little else beyond that. The separation ached just as bad as it always did.

The two sat next to each other at dinner, of course, but Yuuri now experienced worse tension around Roman. This was the make or break portion of the trial run. So as much as Yuuri wanted to close the distance between himself and Viktor, he had to play up the etiquette and obedience Roman would come to expect from a proper pet.

In a twisted sense of fortune, Yuuri’s soured mood translated better into his fighting. A couple weeks into October, he started to return the favor. Affections were neatly put aside when Yuuri needed to vent his frustrations somehow. Even if that meant he went overboard in one knife duel.

Yuuri had no idea that Nina would be proud of him for causing her to need five stitches on her hand. Especially bewildering was when Nina started flaunting her small injury to everyone in the house. He would overhear her laughing about it to Alexie Babichev or Antonio Crispino. “Look, Yuuri landed a hit on me for once! I know, I was just as surprised as you are!”

Viktor had to translate and reassure Yuuri that Nina was, indeed, complimenting Yuuri. It was progress. Yuuri decided he might as well accept it. After all, it was flattering that the mothers now approached Yuuri with more calculation. He had finally proved himself a capable threat.

Yuuri still didn’t escape his own injuries. After every fitness training he stretched out his sore muscles, and at night he applied ointment to his cut or scrape of the week. It was rough, but it was all worth it.

-/-/-

One afternoon lesson, Yuuri arrived to find the mothers accompanying Lilia. They had decided that he was ready to take on his own weapon.

It was a momentous occasion! With how Nina was acting, bouncing on her feet, Yuuri had to mentally calculate to make sure it wasn’t his birthday. By all means, when Yuuri climbed into the family black car, it felt like his birthday.

They went to a gun shop first. Yuuri was familiar with this place – just out of town, at the edge of the mountains. It had both an indoor gun range and an outdoor rifle range. Mei had dragged Yuuri here on several occasions when she had decided his aim or accuracy wasn’t on par.

Everyone knew Yuuri didn’t share Mei’s infinity for guns. But it _was_ a practical weapon. Furthermore, whatever weapon he chose, Yuuri understood that he had to train in its proper use. Depending on what he chose, he would still be mastering it after he became a pet.

Nevertheless, much as the sales assistant tried to dazzle him with entire rows of semi-automatics and even aesthetically pleasing revolvers, Yuuri didn’t take to anything. The group of fighters got back into their car and Chauffer Altin drove them another twenty minutes to a tactical gear and sword shop.

This shop sat in alongside old warehouses and loading docks. The place seemed a little sketchy, with the street littered in potholes. Still, Nina claimed to be a loyal customer here and refused to take her business anywhere else. Once inside, Yuuri understood her immediately, as he was greeted with the sight of an armory of a store. A playground for blade enthusiasts.

Nina and Yuuri hadn’t had many opportunities, over the years, to bond with each other. But that afternoon, as Yuuri let Nina lead him around the store and enthuse over everything they considered, he felt a new kinship with her. Yuuri felt out the balance of axes, studied the sharpness of some machetes, and laughed over some of the ‘ninja’ weapons. At one point he geeked out when he recognized something from a combat video game. Surprisingly, Nina let Yuuri info dump about it.

And then the two got into a play match over wooden practice daggers. 

(Mei had to move them along from that distraction.)

Yuuri continued through the shop and then stopped in front of the battle sword display. Earlier, he and Nina had agreed that Yuuri’s flexible yet strong fighting style didn’t suit a katana or fencing foil. He needed something that had considerable force but could maneuver easily with. Also, the weapon had to fit Yuuri’s admitted flair for theatrics. The two seemed to read each other’s minds when they looked at the battle sabers. 

Mama Lyuba came up behind them, caught their choice, and exhaled a long sigh.

“Did you consider a machete? Something more easily carried, at the very least.” She protested.

“Hey, the weapon is his choice.” Nina reminded, as the sales assistant came by to help them handle the swords.

Before the man reached them, Lyuba hissed under her breath, “But where will he even use it outside of the throne room? He can’t guard Viktor out in public with a _sword_.”

Yuuri shrugged, most of his attention now on the sales assistant asking him which saber he’d like to see first. He pointed at one before answering Lyuba. “I don’t need to carry in public. You don’t.”

Mei had now joined them. Lyuba likely expected a rational second to her own opinion, but Mei came up behind Yuuri to also study the swords.

“Your family are the ones quite intent on monarchial symbolism. Why not let him be a knight?” She pointed out.

Lyuba squinted at her companion. “Now you’re just complicating things. Knights used long swords. Russians don’t have such traditions.”

Mei only shrugged and remained impassive, as if she couldn’t be bothered to keep up with which European countries had which practices. Yuuri snorted. He knew full well that Mei was just as well versed on Western history as she was Eastern.

In the end, Yuuri, Nina, and Mei triumphed. In compromise, Yuuri agreed to not own a saber until he was trained in how to use the weapon. He returned to the estate with a schedule for lessons.

-/-/-

The next day, Lyuba was likely still bitter about Yuuri’s impractical choice for weapon. She insisted on hand to hand combat. If Yuuri insisted on relying on hand to hand for his day to day guard responsibilities, then, as Lyuba reasoned, he would have to excel at this fighting form.

Within twenty seconds of the fight, Lyuba threw Yuuri down. His front hit the ground with such force that he felt the wind knock out of him. Not giving him the mercy of a second, Lyuba then pinned and immobilized him. Yuuri strained to fight back, but her hold on his arms made it feel like something would get dislocated. He called out for yield. She took her sweet time getting off him.

Got it, Yuuri wanted to say. Don’t underestimate anyone. Or at least, he would have said that if he wasn’t too busy rolling his shoulders to make sure nothing was out of place. Once he confirmed that he was alright, Nina and Mei stepped up spar with him. They weren’t as vindictive – thankfully. But since when was Nina ever merciful?

Yuuri left practice exhausted, wincing as he tried to rub the aching strain from his neck and shoulders. Fortunately, he escaped serious injury. The ache would probably subside in a day or two. He just needed an ice pack and then maybe some time under the massage head of his fancy shower.

Though, what Yuuri wouldn’t give to go see his physical therapy specialist. Minako had recommended the specialist to Yuuri years ago, for all his bad falls and twisted ankles in dancing. As Yuuri made his way to his room, he laughed humorlessly over how the specialist would react over the constant beating he received nowadays. No one massage could make up for all of it.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri – and Lien, who was escorting him as usual – stopped at the landing of the second floor to see Viktor standing at the bottom of the staircase. Yuuri smiled warmly and waited for Viktor to run up the steps to meet him. Viktor hugged Yuuri as if the two hadn’t seen each other for days, when in reality, they did have dinner together. The chaperoned time those past few weeks had been hard on them both.

Respectfully, Lien stood off to the side and let the two enjoy each other’s company. She wasn’t as concerned with getting in trouble for Viktor delaying Yuuri as Håkon was. Then again, Lien wasn’t responsible for getting Yuuri to lessons on time.

Yuuri leaned into Viktor’s chest, half-tempted to fall asleep right there. Viktor rubbed up and down Yuuri’s back.

“You’re all tense,” he commented. “Rough practice?”

Yuuri hummed in response. Now happy and comfortable, he was more than ready to surrender to the exhaustion.

“How far did my mothers push you tonight?” Viktor asked, a slight impatience edging at his voice.

Yuuri made a noncommittal sound. “Jus’ makin sure I’m prepared, ‘s all.”

Viktor hmphed, and then asked, “How can I help?”

The answer was easy. The reality improbable. “I jus’ want you.”

“Then I know just the thing.” Viktor’s grin was audible. If Yuuri could find the energy to lift his own head, he was sure he’d see Viktor’s heart-shaped smile. “Take a bath with me.”

Yuuri had enough energy to open his eyes wide, go completely red in the face, and check to see if Lien was still there. She was. She was also pointedly ignoring their interaction. Thank god for the small blessings.

But… a bath sounded like a wonderful idea. Not to mention, Viktor had one of those jacuzzi tubs that could fit a baseball team. Yuuri would love it if he could enjoy such a thing.

“Let my mothers know that I’ll be watching Yuuri for the rest of the night.” Viktor then ordered of Lien.

Yuuri startled. There was not an inch of lenience in Viktor’s demand. The man had lost his patience; he wanted Yuuri and that was final. Was Viktor allowed to do that? Usurp his mother’s conditions? Håkon would have thought so, for sure. Lien offered no protest. She smiled, nodded, and left them.

Well, there’d probably be hell to pay later. For now, Yuuri had missed Viktor so much that he was willing to go along with this deviance.

Viktor tucked an arm under Yuuri’s and around Yuuri’s waist, to support him all the way up to the third floor. He teased Yuuri for each step Yuuri clumsily missed, but never let go. They made it to the suite without any further incident. Viktor deposited Yuuri onto his bed, went back to the sitting area, and then came back a couple minutes later to press a mug of green tea into Yuuri’s hands.

Eye lids drooping, still fully dressed, Yuuri just sipped at his tea while Viktor disappeared into the bathroom to start the bath. Within a minute, the sharp sound of water running into a tub filled the space. It and the tea woke Yuuri up a little.

“Yuuri, what bath salts do you want?” Viktor called from the bathroom.

“Um…” Yuuri squinted towards the direction of the bathroom. “I’ve never used bath salts before.”

Viktor popped his head out the door, wide eyed. His shoulders were bare – his shirt somehow already lost. “ _What_?”

“My bathroom back home doesn’t have a tub.”

Viktor gasped at that, covering his mouth in shock. In Yuuri’s drowsy state, he wondered if he had just said something offensive.

“You’ve been deprived!” Viktor cried. “How did you live in such conditions?”

“Hey,” Yuuri frowned, sourly. “I thought we agreed that I wasn’t poor.”

Viktor ignored that comment. He went back into the bathroom and then came out with a handful of small jars, each filled with colored salts.

“Here. Smell these. Pick which type you like best.”

Obediently, Yuuri sniffed each jar. He chose a mint salt. Viktor took the choice back to the tub. Yuuri continued to drink his tea, now half-way finished. Soon, the scent of mint swirled around him. Yuuri sighed happily, put the mug down on a side table, and fell back onto the bed.

He felt the end of the bed dip as Viktor sat down.

“Would you like me to give you a massage? While we wait?”

Yuuri hesitated. A massage would be wonderful, but not everyone knew proper technique. He had learned his lesson years ago when Takeshi once graciously offered and then  left Yuuri with a crick in his back that only Minako had been able to get out.

“Not to be rude, but I think I’d prefer a specialist.” Yuuri mumbled.

“Well,” Viktor shuffled up towards Yuuri’s head on the bed. “I’ve been receiving training.”

Yuuri’s eyes flew open. Viktor was grinning at him.

“Really?”

“Yup! You think you’re the only one who’s been picking up new skills?”

Yuuri sat up. This was a complete surprise! When did Viktor even find the time? “You have? When?”

“Here and there,” Viktor offered, almost modestly. “Actually, I’ve been taking classes and learning techniques for the past few years. I started back in college, hoping I could help you more with your dancing.”

Yuuri’s face warmed. It never ceased to amaze him when he was reminded for how long and how much Viktor cared for him. “O-oh. Okay then.”

But then another thought occurred to Yuuri. One, he and Viktor were going to take a bath together. Which meant that they’d be unclothed. Together. In a confined space.

Two, Viktor wanted to massage Yuuri beforehand.

He looked back at Viktor, this time feeling awake enough to notice Viktor’s bare torso. His smooth, muscled torso. The skin was unfairly even toned. Viktor’s pecs rose and fell sumptuously with each breath he took. Yuuri could probably trace each muscle of his arms, his waist. Even the slight rolls of his stomach from the way he was lounge sitting on the bed just begged to be grabbed and loved.

Yuuri’s heart thumped up in response. What right did a _business_ heir have looking this fit? Something about this had to be illegal. _Besides_ being a crime lord.

“Do you have ulterior motives for all this?” He asked, adjusting his glasses.

Viktor’s eyes widened. “Not at all. I just want to help.” He then tilted his head, with a finger to his chin. “That is… unless you _want_ me to have ulterior motives.”

Unconsciously, Yuuri licked his lips. He swallowed and did his best to remind himself of the still-present ache in his back. He had already made this a cheat night, by letting Viktor defy his mother’s orders.

“Er, I think I’ll take that massage.”

The two sat staring at each other, Viktor’s brow quirked in some sort of expectation. Yuuri had no clue what. Finally, Viktor took the finger from his chin and pointed at Yuuri’s chest.

“It’d be easier if you take your shirt off.” He grinned.

Yuuri’s face enflamed. He threw his hands behind his shirt and tried to tug it off in one fell swoop, but the collar caught on the back of his neck. With his shirt stuck over his head, glasses tangled somewhere in the middle, and arm splayed out, he was spared the _visual_ of Viktor laughing at him, but he still _heard_ it.

“Shut up.” Yuuri mumbled from beneath his clothing prison. Hands caught him where he was and soon Viktor was assisting Yuuri in removing the offending shirt. Both that and the glasses were placed safely aside.

Not baring to face his shame, Yuuri flopped right back down onto the bed, stomach-down. He meant to be pointed about it, but he didn’t calculate how many pillows Viktor owned, or how his face would sink into a crevice of these pillows, _or_ how he had to resurface for air and readjustment.

Viktor was just about to fall off the bed laughing.

Of course, the jostling endeavor had left Yuuri with new aches. Viktor stopped laughing when he noticed Yuuri wince. In the next moment, Viktor’s hands were a feather light touch on Yuuri’s back. He straddled himself over Yuuri’s legs for a better angle. His first touches were then an up and down, just to warm the skin and muscles to the contact. Yuuri sighed happily.

Viktor had nice, diligent hands. Once he found the spots of tension in Yuuri’s back, Viktor expertly smoothed the muscles out. Each muscle received its due and appropriate attention, as Viktor took his time, almost drawing out the experience as long as he could. As the massage continued, Viktor increased the pressure to loosen up all the knots and bunches.

Yuuri could feel himself melting into the bed. He mumbled his appreciation into the pillows.

“What was that, dear?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri tilted up his head. “I think you found a way to out-surprise me.”

“Good!” Viktor chirped, pleased with himself.

Stealing off to Viktor’s room had been an excellent idea, Yuuri decided. Especially when Viktor added, “I’ll be happy to do this for you anytime you need it.”

That sounded like a wonderful proposition that Yuuri would be more than happy to accept. In any case, even Lilia’s wrath could not convince Yuuri to move from this bed. He needed Viktor so bad.

“I’ve missed you, Yuuri. I’ve missed touching you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” His body sung with the pleasure of Viktor's touch. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for you for a long time now. I love your back.” Viktor’s tone was now warmer, more sensual. His hands traced the muscles of Yuuri’s back with awe. “It’s incredible. So strong.”

Yuuri preened under the attention. All his senses were now aware of everything Viktor did. He caught the sound of Viktor’s breathing: low, yet excited. In the background, the water continued to run.

“So, these are your ulterior motives.” Yuuri joked, yet he couldn’t hide the growing heat in his own voice.

Viktor leaned down so that his lower half was more pressed against Yuuri’s butt. His lips now spoke close to Yuuri’s ear.

“Depends. You didn’t answer my question earlier. Did you want me to have ulterior motives?”

Yuuri’s playful smile gave way to a shudder. “God, yes.”

Wasting no time, Viktor kissed along the line of Yuuri’s jaw and then down his neck. He grinded down against Yuuri’s butt. His hands continued to run along Yuuri’s back, but this time it was a more carnal glide of fingers.

Yuuri turned his head so that he could look up at Viktor with half-lidded eyes. When Viktor ran his mouth back up to Yuuri’s neck – just tasting Yuuri’s skin with his tongue – Yuuri did his best to motion that he wanted more kisses. When Viktor failed to notice – in turn to continue lavishing every inch of Yuuri’s upper body – Yuuri had to voice his desire.

“Turn me over.” He half-demanded. He had waited too damn long for this.

Viktor obliged, gently flipping Yuuri over so that the two could easily meet each other’s lips, and so Yuuri could reach up and hold onto Viktor. The two continued to grind into each other as the kiss deepened. Their arousal grew in the marginal space between them. Soon their kiss was a heavy pull at each other’s lips, not allowing a second of lost contact.

When Yuuri ran his own hands down Viktor’s chest, he felt Viktor twitch. Curious, he ran his fingers back up, making sure to brush slow along Viktor’s pretty pecs. Viktor groaned. It was a delicious sound, raw and deep. By the third pass, Yuuri stopped to circle around Viktor’s nipples, and Viktor broke the kiss to moan against Yuuri’s jaw, enraptured in a full body shudder.

Emboldened now, Yuuri pushed up so that he could lay Viktor out on the bed. All exhaustion was seemingly forgotten. Viktor didn’t complain, helping Yuuri crawl over him. His eyes shined, now pleased to be looking up at Yuuri.

Yuuri kissed Viktor again, but it was a short pass of lips. This time, Yuuri went on to take his turn going down Viktor’s sculpted jaw and neck. Viktor held onto Yuuri as Yuuri explored his lover’s body. He continued to play with Viktor’s nipples, loving the way Viktor’s entire body reacted to Yuuri’s ministrations.

Everything was addicting, from the needy sounds spilling from Viktor’s throat, to the flush breaking past his face to bloom across his chest. He even bucked his hips up in a desperate search for contact. Yuuri had no idea he had such an effect on Viktor. It filled Yuuri with such a warmth and unignorable tightness in his pants.

Yuuri moved down Viktor’s chest with his mouth. He now obliged his earlier thoughts with tracing the lines of the muscles with his lips. Simultaneously, he ran his hand down the strength of Viktor’s arm. He kissed across the pecs first and then made his way down the abs, taking time with the lovely balance of firm muscle and soft skin. It was then that he noticed Viktor’s arousal nudging him in the chest.

An idea occurred to Yuuri. Yet just as soon as it surfaced, he stuttered with nerves. Viktor noticed right away, reaching up to caress Yuuri’s cheek.

“Yuuri?” He checked.

Yuuri’s hands were now falling towards Viktor’s pants. He wanted to go down on Viktor. It was _right there_ , and Yuuri knew how to deep throat now. He could do it.

But what if he was bad at it? What if Viktor was much bigger than the toy and Yuuri couldn’t handle it? Viktor had presented such a wonderful surprise by knowing how to massage Yuuri’s back. (Yuuri’s back was now miraculously pain free.) He wanted to surprise Viktor back. But it had to be a good surprise. It had to be _perfect_. 

Viktor now sat up, frowning.

“Are you… trying to go down on me?”

Yuuri was now gripping onto the button of Viktor’s slacks. A sort of running sound filled his ears.

“Hey, you don’t have to if you aren’t ready.” Viktor reassured. “I was enjoying what we were doing.”

The noise seemed to get louder. At first, Yuuri thought it was just his ears acting up. And then he tuned in on it. Water.

“Ah!” Yuuri jerked up. “The bath!”

Viktor’s eyes widened as well. Both jumped from the bed and rushed to the bathroom.

The tub had started to overflow. It was a huge, triangular jacuzzi tub, and water had now started to run over the sides and onto the floor.

With impressive speed for a man with a boner, Viktor shut the water off. Yuuri scanned the room and found some towels, which he immediately threw to the side and floor outside the tub. Thankfully, it was crafted with tile, so the water wouldn’t damage anything.

As Viktor unplugged the drain to let the water go down, Yuuri continued to sop up the puddle.

He again admired how large the tub was. Just how long had he and Viktor taken with the massage and make out session?

It took some time and a couple extra towels, but Yuuri and Viktor managed to dry up the spill. Viktor plugged the drain back up when the water was at a safer level. Alas, by the time they had fixed the problem, the water wasn’t as hot.

Still, it would have been a waste of a bath. Viktor wasted no time in shedding the rest of his clothes. Out of habit and embarrassment, Yuuri turned around. He heard Viktor enter the tub and let out a long sigh of content.

Not to miss the opportunity, Yuuri also pulled down his pants and boxers. He got into the tub as well, doing his best not to look down. But even though the water wasn’t at the perfect temperature, it still felt good. Yuuri forgot his embarrassment as he relaxed into the wide space, opposite of Viktor.

He let his eyes close, just to enjoy the undeniable luxury of the bath. Where he was already relaxed from the massage, the warmth had him feeling just as liquid as the water. There was a mineral heaviness to the water, from the salt. Yuuri’s body just existed effortlessly. He soaked happily for several minutes. 

Yuuri opened his eyes, to thank Viktor for all of this. He found Viktor staring at him in hunger, eyes roaming, lips parted. In equal measure, Yuuri’s eyes flickered back to Viktor’s bare skin. Water droplets made Viktor’s chest seem like a bedazzled gift. All for Yuuri.

The space between them seemed to offend Viktor. He held his arms out in invitation.

Blushing, Yuuri moved forward until he was sitting right in front of Viktor, his legs hooked over Viktor’s legs. Viktor immediately pulled Yuuri in closer, so that they were flush up against each other.

Both of their erections had subsided a bit, but with the new contact, Yuuri could feel himself growing. He looked into Viktor’s eyes, seeing his own desire reflected in Viktor’s blown pupils.

Viktor reached down between them. “May I?”

Yuuri nodded. Viktor then brought their cocks together to start rubbing against each other. Yuuri’s eyes fluttered shut as he moaned out. He gripped onto Viktor’s shoulders as Viktor started to stroke their lengths in tandem. In the water, the movement was hardly graceful, but Yuuri didn’t care. They were skin to skin. At the most intimate than they had ever been. His body felt so hot that he could have been burned at the stake and not notice the difference.

God, Yuuri had no idea how he was supposed survive this. He had missed the feeling of Viktor pleasuring him, of Viktor all around him. This time it was even better, as Viktor moaned in symphony with Yuuri. Their foreheads fell against each other’s.

Pleasure and heat built and built until Yuuri felt too much, too good for the limited space of his physical body. His only outlet was the wanton moans and whines he exclaimed, which Viktor swallowed up with intermittent kisses. Yuuri’s head span, his wrecked breathing leaving him tense and lightheaded all at once. Yet between his pleasured sounds he let out a litany of “don’t stop, so good, don’t stop.”

Yuuri came first. It ascended him just as high as the last time Viktor had brought him to orgasm. Once he finally came down from his high, he noticed that Viktor was still hard against him. Quickly, Yuuri replaced Viktor’s hand with his own, and started moving up and done the sole length of Viktor’s cock.

Yuuri was certain that he was awkward at it, and he had no idea how Viktor liked it done. The water didn’t make things any easier. But his efforts must have pleased Viktor anyways, because Viktor collapsed against the side of the tub and let his head fall back. With several jerks, squeezes, and passes over the head of Viktor’s cock, Viktor was also coming.

Yuuri marveled at the sight and sound. It was such a glorious view, with the way Viktor’s mouth parted with a breathy shout and his eyes shut in ecstasy. Every inch of skin from his ears to his nipples was a delicious pink. Viktor’s hands gripped at the side of the tub, and then loosened as he too came back down to reality.

The two breathed in and out as they relaxed back into each other’s arms. Belatedly, they realized that the nice bath water had been tainted by their cum. They both made faces at their shortsightedness.

It turned out to be a rather short bath. But, in the end, Yuuri had received exactly the TLC that he needed. The two helped each other towel down. Yuuri found his tea, still half drunk, but now cold. His phone had somehow ended up on the floor, battery just about dead. Yet they laughed about it, accusing the other of being more distracting. That disagreement was resolved with kisses.

Viktor then offered some of his own sleeppants and t-shirt to wear, since Yuuri didn’t feel like sleeping nude or having one of the house staff fetch his clothes. Viktor was more than comfortable sleeping naked.

Without having to voice it, the two agreed to have Yuuri stay the night. He slipped under the covers with Viktor, taking to the right side of the bed. Viktor wrapped himself around Yuuri, also taking to the right side of the bed. From there, falling to sleep was easy. Yuuri couldn’t recall a time he ever felt more sated or comfortable.

That night, Yuuri made his decision. He would become Viktor’s pet. Nothing could convince him otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's not a knight!!! He's a prince! One thirsty boi prince! ;) ;) ;)
> 
> Also, some people have been messaging me on my tumblr (omg thank you so much??!!), and it made me realize that I’ve never shared my actual yoi blog. Hit me up on either my main (vaguelyaperson), or porkcutlethusbandos, where I am continuously obsessing over my ice children. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for all your kudos and reviews!!! <3 <3 <3


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